Here For You
by Birch66724
Summary: Clarke has been looking forward to college for years, but nothing seems to be going the way she thought it would. After a traumatic experience, she doesn't know what to do or who she is anymore. Luckily, Bellamy lives just one floor below and is determined to help her through the rough times. Bellarke / College AU
1. Chapter 1

"Ma'am! You cannot park your car here, this is where the campus bus pulls up." A stern voice came from a man clad in his blue campus police uniform.

"We just need to unload," Abby shouted, heaving a suitcase out of the trunk.

"I will write you a ticket if you don't move this car, immediately!" he said, more firmly.

"Just move the car, Mom," Clarke grumbled, embarrassed.

"Okay, okay! Just get this one heavy basket- oh!" The handle of the basket snapped and various things went tumbling across the blacktop.

"Mom! Just move the car! I'll pick this up," Clarke insisted, pushing Abby towards the driver's side of the vehicle.

"Okay! I'll be just a minute." Abby said with a pointed glare at the officer. Clarke hurried to scoop the bottles of lotion and shampoo into the basket as her Mom drove the blue Civic into the lot.

"So sorry about her," Clarke apologized, flustered.

"No problem. Move-in week is always hectic." He picked up the final item: Clarke's favorite green Nalgene bottle.

"Thanks." She offered the older man a smile. He returned the gesture, his sun-wrinkled face kind despite his harsh voice.

Clarke scooped up the broken basket under one arm and pulled the suitcase along behind her and she approached the residence hall. She paused in front of the door, looking up to see the silver lettering on the outside of the brick building. Frontier Hall. This is it.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed through the doors and was greeted by a blast of cool air, a welcome reprieve from the hot August day outside. The entrance to the Hall held a reception desk when students' mail was delivered and spare keys could be found, which was currently empty, and a small lounge area. The elevator was directly across from the doors, framed by a pair of fake potted ferns.

Clarke punched the up button and stood back to await the car. The Hall smelled… homey. Clarke smiled. It's finally happening! I'm at college.

"Hey, going up?" A boy asked, crossing the lobby to the elevator.

Clarke nodded.

"Perfect. Moving in, I see?" he observed, leaning casually against the wall above the elevator button.

"Yep," Clake confirmed, unsure of what else to say. He was attractive, she realized, and although she wasn't particularly fond of long hair on boys, it worked for him.

The elevator luckily arrived before the moment got too awkward for Clarke, dinging as the door slid open and a trio of boys hurried out.

"Murphy, you asshole!" One of them shouted, bumping Clarke in his haste. Startled, the broken basket started to slip out of her hands.

"Woah!" The long-haired boy reached out to steady it.

"Sorry!" Someone called back over their shoulder as they burst out the door into the bright summer sun.

"Thanks," Clarke hurried to say to the long-haired boy, sparing a glance at the disappearing offenders.

"Let me take this for you. I bet you're going up to four?" he said, pressing the button without waiting for her response.

"How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess," he grinned lopsidedly and Clarke felt her heart flutter.

"I'm Finn, by the way." He shifted Clarke's basket onto his hip and offered her a handshake. Clarke took his hand, reveling in the final half second of the gesture when it seemed to go on longer than necessary.

"I'm Clarke," She smiled at him, dropping his hand and unconsciously wiping her palm on her jean shorts. "Do you live here? In Frontier, I mean?"

"Nah, I go to St. Thomas. Couldn't get into the University of Minnesota."

"Oh!" Clarke didn't know what to say. "I've heard good things about- about St. Thomas." She had never heard of that school in her life.

"It's alright, I guess. Though they don't have nearly as many pretty girls over there as they do here," Finn smirked at Clarke with shining dark eyes. "Which room you headed to?" he asked, easily stepping out of the elevator as it opened on the fourth floor.

"Uh, 12. 412," Clarke told him, pulling the suitcase over the ridges of the elevator door track, hurrying to keep up with Finn as her stomach filled with butterflies.

Finn's face fell for a second, but then he regained his composure. "Not too far from the elevator, nice."

"Yeah," Clarke agreed, following him down the carpeted hall, unsure what else to say. Flirting had never been her strong suit.

The walls were lined with boxes and odd pieces of furniture including microwaves and chairs and even a full futon. Music flowed out of an open door farther down that hall. Handmade welcome signs adorned each door, and several had little whiteboards with messages scribbled on them in blue Expo marker. It looked like a college dorm. It was a college dorm. The thought made Clarke smile again.

"412," Finn said, rapping his knuckles on the door.

Welcome to the U of M, Clarke G and Raven R! the maroon and gold sign read. The little golden gopher mascot stood in the corner of the paper, holding up a foam finger and grinning with its little buck teeth.

The door swung open, revealing a tan skinned, dark haired girl. She grinned out from the room, not seeing Clarke past Finn.

"Finn!" She cheered, planting a kiss on the boy's mouth. "I didn't know you were coming by today, my roommate's supposed to be here soon," She said, rocking back on the balls of her feet after detaching herself from the boy. Clarke blinked at her, glad Raven hadn't noticed her yet so she had time to wipe the stunned expression off her face.

"Here," Finn gestured to Clarke. "Found her in the elevator."

"Hi," Clarke said lamely, hoping she looked friendly and not like some kind of wide-eyed idiot.

"Welcome home!" Raven said, stepping back from the door and sweeping her arm into the dorm. "I already picked the left side, hope you don't mind. Doesn't make much of a difference though, we'll be on top of each other either way. Looks smaller in person than it did on the housing website, doesn't it?" Raven chattered, leading the way into the dorm.

Clarke made a sound of agreement. It did indeed look smaller in person than in the photos. Raven had her bed on the left side of the room made up with a dark blue comforter and a single pillow. She was still in the thick of unpacking, judging by the various boxes and duffel bags strewn around on her bed and desk, but Clarke's side of the room remained untouched. The bare mattress sat on its plain wood frame and the desk situated at the foot of the bed looked new.

The edge of the desk narrowly missed the frame of the door inside the room, which led to the shared bathroom.

"The other two girls in the adjoining dorm haven't moved in yet," Raven informed her, stepping aside to let Finn into the room. He placed Clarke's basket down gingerly on the mattress.

"We should head out, let Clarke get settled. Want to go for subs, Rav?" Finn asked, fiddling with his belt loops and looked as if he'd rather be anywhere else at the moment.

Raven frowned. "I suppose. Need help carrying anything in, Clarke?"

"No, no. My mom is here to help," she told Raven quickly.

"Okay, well, I feel bad to just meet you and ditch."

"Don't worry about it! I'm sure we'll be spending plenty of time together," Clarke assured Raven, really not wanting Finn to stick around. The air in the room was tinged with an uneasy awkwardness.

"Alright. See you in a few, then." Raven grabbed her phone off her bed and slipped out the door. Finn made eye contact with Clarke before he followed his girlfriend down the hall and Clarke felt her cheeks redden.

"Great. My roommate's boyfriend has infidelity problems," Clarke muttered, feeling guilty. Raven seemed nice though. Maybe Clarke could just forget that Finn ever said anything to her and move on.

Clarke let a deep breath out and patted the tops of her thighs, nodding as she took in the space once more. "College, here we go."

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Hey guys! I just want to say a few things before we get into the story. I have never written something like this before. There are going to be some sensitive topics. I will label chapters that some people may find troubling or offensive. I just want to give fair warning to everyone before they start reading.

Thanks for reading, and please don't hesitate to leave me your thoughts, questions, comments or concerns! Thanks,

-Birch66724

EDIT- I went through and corrected several things in this first chapter, and wow... Let me just say I am surprised that anyone stuck around to keep reading. I promise that the writing does get much better. :)


	2. Chapter 2

After a teary goodbye with her mother, Clarke flopped down on her freshly made bed. Teary on Abby's part that is. But now, after watching her mother drive off, all the way back to Oregon, leaving Clarke here in Minnesota knowing not a soul, tears were welling up in her own eyes.

What if college isn't everything she had dreamed about it being for years? What if Raven decided to hate her? Clarke groaned and squeezed shut her eyes. Two fat droplets pushed their way out, leaving trails down Clarke's temples. She took a deep breath and lay with her eyes closed, trying to feel nothing.

Gnawing anxiety was writhing in the pit of Clarke's stomach. She let herself wallow in it for a few moments more before sitting up, swallowing down the rest of her tears and setting her resolve.

"Okay, let's get this place cleaned up a bit," she said aloud, letting herself hear her own voice. She set some music playing and started to stack her clothes into the drawers built in under her bed. That took a decent amount of time, unpacking everything from the suitcase and cardboard box, refolding most of it, then laying it neatly in the pine fragranced drawers.

Once satisfied with her clothing, Clarke moved on to her other belongings, like her notebooks and laptop, pencils and backpack. She lined the papers up neatly on the small desk, jamming her arm down behind the bed to plug in her computer cord. She added a small lamp on the desk before stepping back with a satisfied sigh. The yellow glow from the lamp made the room more homey, especially now that it was getting dusk outside.

After a bit more tidying, Clarke stacked the empty boxes by the door, completing the task she set out to do.

Just as her mind turned to what she should do for supper, the door swung open.

"Yeah, see you, well- I'll let you know," Raven stood sideways, calling down the hall to Finn. "Yep, love you too, bye now."

Raven shut the door behind her with an exaggerated sigh. Clarke gave her an amused look.

"Looks great in here," Raven commented, rubbing her temples.

"Thanks," Clarke said.

"Should I have knocked before I opened the door? Do you have to knock on your own door?"

"I don't think so. I mean, you live here, too," Clarke said.

"Fair enough. I can show you where to get rid of these boxes," Raven offered, nudging a box in the middle of the room with her foot.

"That'd be good. Hey, do they have somewhere to eat in the building? I'm starving."

"Oh, yeah! They do, I ate there last night. Wasn't half bad," Raven stooped and picked up a box.

"Perfect, let me grab some money quick." Clarke slid a ten out of her wallet before picking up the two remaining boxes and following Raven into the hallway.

"So, tell me about yourself," Raven prompted, hitting the elevator button with her knee. Of course, they knew a few basic facts about each other from the housing website, but they hadn't really talked much.

"Well, I'm from Sandy, Oregon, which is about 30 minutes East of Portland. Uh, I lived with my mom, I don't have any siblings and my dad was killed in a car accident about 4 years ago now." Clarke said.

Raven gave her a soft smile. "I'm sorry to hear."

"Thanks. How about you?" They stepped into the elevator.

"Well, I'm from St. Paul, so I didn't get very far," Raven chuckled a bit. "But uh, I don't have too much for family either. Finn's about all I got. My dad, well, skipped town when I was young and my Mom's a junkie, so can't count on her."

Clarke didn't know what to say. Should she apologize? Would that make sense?

"But, luckily, Finn's family lived in the apartment next to mine, so I spent most of my time over there. His mom always wanted more kids but she could have any. I think she had uterine cancer or something. Anyways, she took me in, made sure I was fed and made it to school on time, stuff like that."

"That's good. That they took you in, I mean, not that your mom is…"

Raven chuckled again. "Yeah. I don't know where I'd be without them. Finn especially. We just sort of grew closer over the years."

"That's nice."

"Yeah," The elevator jolted to a stop in the lobby. Raven led the way off, then out the front doors of Frontier Hall.

"How about you? Got a boyfriend back home, Clarke?"

"Nah, I don't," Clarke told her, tossing the cardboard up into a large green recycling bin standing beside the building.

"Aww, c'mon. There's someone!" Raven teased. Clarke laughed at her, shaking her head as they went back inside.

"I swear there isn't."

"Alright," Raven relented. They walked past the desk, down a short hall, and into an open lounge area. There were couches and a ping pong table and a TV on one side, with tables and chairs and vending machines on the other. Along the back wall was a counter with a cooler and menu board.

"I had the tomato basil wrap last night, it was alright," Raven said, examining a chocolate chip cookie from the counter before buying it from a bored looking boy with acne.

Clarke selected a plain turkey sandwich from the cooler and a bag of chips for herself.

They sat at a table and started to talk. Conversation started to flow easily after a few moments as they got to know each other a bit better. Clarke had always thought of herself as clumsy in conversation, especially with new people, but Raven was easy to talk to.

Occasionally when the topic of Finn would come up, Clarke would feel a snag of guilt. She had been flirting with her roommate's boyfriend in the elevator... She pushed it down though with the simple promise of _'never again'._

It was easy to see how much Finn meant to Raven, He was her whole family, her whole world. He was her lifeboat when she was sinking, providing a home and a mother and love. They had a type of bond that went far beyond that of love, and Clarke smiled to think of something so strong as that.

Clarke told Raven about her mother, how she was a leading doctor at OHSU Hospital in Portland. She told Raven how she spent a decent portion of her weeknights home alone as her mother was frequently wrapped up in something at work and opted to just stay over at the hospital.

After awhile they moved on from more serious family topics and swapped stories from high school, laughing up a storm. When Raven told of a boy who drove his snowmobile into the building last winter, Clarke had tears of laughter in her eyes as Raven's impersonation of the principal's reaction.

"Dylan! I told you! Bring that God damned machine onto school property, I'd suspend you!" Raven stood up and held her arms out, trying to mimic the Principe's hulking figure. She used a hilariously deep voice and Clarke was rocking back and forth, struggling to breathe.

Anyone who walked into the lounge would have thought that Raven and Clarke were lifelong friends.

Finally, after about 2 hours, Clarke was yawning.

"I bet you're tired," Raven said, catching Clarke's contagious yawn. She stood up and stretched her lean body.

"Yeah, I spent too many hours in the car today. Funny how you can get so exhausted when all you did was sit there."

"Yeah." Raven threw away their trash, which had been sitting on the table for several hours now.

"What are the other two girl's names?" Clarke asked as they made their way back to their dorm.

"Uh, Harper and- Oh God what is it?"

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you." Clarke teased. Raven mock scowled and shoved Clarke with an arm. She just laughed.

"Octavia!"

"Octavia." Clarke repeated. "Sounds like something rich people would name their kid."

"Sort of does, doesn't it?" Agreed Raven.

"I'm sure they'll be nice though. I was so scared that I was going to get stuck with a weirdo or someone mean for a roommate, but you seem alright, I guess." Clarke laughed.

"Oh, alright? That's all I get?"

"Yep."

It was almost nine pm and Clarke was ready to go to bed.

"I shower at night." she told Raven, digging through her drawers to find some pajama shorts and a t-shirt.

"Perfect. I only shower in the morning. I cannot sleep with wet hair."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's awful. Makes my whole head feel cold and then your pillow gets wet. No thank you." Raven scrunched up her nose in distaste.

"Hmm. I guess. I just like to feel clean when I sleep." Clarke said.

Raven nodded and yawned again. Clarke brought her pajamas and shampoo into the bathroom and took a hot shower. She was surprised that the shower was nice with decent water pressure and no visible mold growing in the corners. By the time her teeth were brushed and her damp hair was braided back, she was feeling renewed hope for college and Raven.

She climbed into bed, turning to face the wall. Raven was watching something on her computer, but she turned the brightness down when Clarke shut out her lights.

"Goodnight." she whispered across the room.

"Goodnight, Raven." Clarke whispered back, falling easily into sleep. Thankfully, Raven didn't snore.

**Author's Note _**

Okay, so I don't go to the U of M, nor have I been there before, so some things are bound to be inaccurate. I don't know if any of you have been there either, so perhaps it doesn't matter, but I just wanted to put that out there. :)

Thanks for reading!

-Birch66724


	3. Chapter 3

"Ope, I'm sorry!"

Clarke groggily blinked awake. Early morning sunlight filtered around the window blind, patterning the room in splotches and lines of yellow light. A blond haired girl stood in the bathroom doorway.

Clarke propped herself up on an elbow and rubbed her face.

"What's up?" Raven croaked from her bed across the room, her voice thick with sleep.

"Didn't mean to wake you up, so sorry." The girl apologized, shutting the bathroom door behind her and retreating into the adjoining dorm.

"Harper or Octavia?" Raven asked Clarke.

Clarke considered it. "I'm thinking Harper."

"Mm, I'm going to have to go Octavia, then." Raven said through a yawn. Clarke flopped back down in bed. She closed her eyes and listened to Raven get up and shuffle around the room.

"Shit!" Raven hissed out a curse.

"Raven?" Clarke sat up, concerned.

"Just stubbed my toe," Raven grumbled, hopping on one foot.

"Klutz." Clarke teased. Raven gave her the middle finger.

"Who the hell moves into their dorm at 6:30?" Raven muttered, sitting back down on the edge of her bed.

Clarke chuckled without opening her mouth, huffing little puffs of air out her nose. "Harper does, apparently."

"You mean Octavia?"

"No, I'm right. I know it's Harper."

"Wanna bet?"

"One dollar," Clarke stuck her hand out from under her quilt to shake on it.

"You're on," Raven pumped her hand, tugging her upright in the bed. "Get up, let's go introduce ourselves."

"Mmm," Clarke groaned, stretching luxuriously before following Raven through the bathroom, into the adjoining dorm. Clarke's bare feet felt cold on the white tiled floor. She wrapped her arms around her sleep t-shirt and ran a hand through her hair.

"Hey! Hi," The blond girl stood up straight from where she was crouched in front of her mattress. "I am so sorry, I didn't mean to wake you guys up." Her face looked genuinely apologetic.

"S'no problem." Clarke said, then yawned.

"Nice to meet you." Raven said, stepping into the room. "I'm Raven Reyes."

"And I'm Clarke Griffin," Clarke waved from behind Raven.

"Nice to meet you both!" The girl said brightly, smiling wide. "I'm Harper. McIntyre. Harper McIntyre."

"A ha!" Clarke said, grinning victoriously at Raven.

Raven groaned.

Harper looked confused. Raven explained, "Clarke and I made a bet on whether you were Octavia or Harper. Clarke won."

"One whole dollar," Clarke bragged and Harper gave an amused smile.

"Stop touching me!" Two boys tumbled into the room, fighting over a lamp.

"Hey, Ian, Luke, no!" Harper scolded, snatching the lamp from their hands. The two boys were carbon copies of one another, and they looked just like Harper. Blond hair and blue eyes and fair skin.

"Luke wouldn't let me carry it!" One boy whined, crossing his arms. The other one shoved him.

"Luke, no. Go back down to the car." Harper ushered them out of the dorm. Clarke watched, amused.

"Sorry. Identical twin seven-year-olds. Can't say I'll miss them fighting every second of every day." Harper rolled her eyes.

Clarke chuckled. "Why don't you finish settling in, and we can catch up afterwards?"

"Sure! I'll let you know."

"Cool, see ya!" Raven said, retreating. Clarke gave Harper a wave and shut the bathroom door behind her.

A few hours later, Harper's family had left and the three of them were walking around campus together, trying to get a sense of things.

Harper told them about her family; in addition to her twin seven-year-old brothers, she had two additional brothers, ages ten and fourteen, and one little sister, who was five. She grew up just North of Duluth, Minnesota, in Two Harbors. Her parents owned and operated a pharmacy and she graduated high school with honors, and planned to study education with the hopes of one day teaching either middle school or high school.

Raven told her about her plans to study mechanical engineering and a bit of her backstory, but not with as much detail as she had shared with Clarke the previous night.

Clarke told Harper about her family and hometown and her plans to study pre-med, although she wasn't exactly sure what she wanted to do yet.

They got lunch and chatted, then located some of their buildings of classes which started the following week. Harper seemed like a sweet, gentle kind of person.

It was late afternoon by the time the trio returned to their dorm.

"All I'm saying is, if he had worn deodorant, no one would have hated him that much."

"Raven!" Harper chastised through laughter.

"Looks your roommate is here, Harper." Clarke said, looking at the light spilling out of Harper's open room.

"Oo, good! She said she was coming tomorrow, though." Harper said, entering the room. Clarke looked at Raven, who shrugged, and followed Harper.

"Oh, jeez. Hey guys." A black haired girl was standing with one hand on her hip, the other was rubbing her forehead.

"Hi Octavia! Nice to finally meet you." Harper said.

Octavia put on a smile and the two girls embraced. Octavia looped her thin, tan arms around Harper, pulling her close like an old friend. Clarke and Raven introduced themselves.

"What's the matter? Need help with something?" Harper asked, scrutinizing the creases between Octavia's eyes.

"No, no," she shook her head, then added harshly, "My brother is just being an f-in' idiot."

"Oh. They'll do that sometimes." Harper said, walking unconcerned over to her nightstand as Octavia aggressively tapped out a message on her phone.

"I've got to go down to his dorm," she rolled her eyes. "Why don't we meet up in an hour or something?" She turned to Clarke and Raven.

"Sure."

"Alright. Hopefully I can avoid being yelled at." she made a face and slipped out the door. Clarke watched her go before turning back to Harper.

"Her brother goes to the U of M, too?"

"Yeah." She stopped what she was doing and tipped her head back. "For the life of me I can't remember his name. It's something… something like Bentley or Brendan or something. Kind of a weird name." Harper frowned.

"Hmm."

"I'm going to catch a nap," Raven said, leaving through the bathroom door. Clarke stayed in Harper's room, continuing to chat. Harper was appalled when Clarke told her she had never seen The Office before, and insisted they watch it. Clarke agreed and made it through two episodes before she dozed off.

Octavia returned a couple of hours later, and the four roommates got dinner at the campus dining hall, which opened for the first time this semester today.

Octavia told them she was from Chaska, Minnesota, but she didn't share any details about her family and Clarke didn't want to press. She was undecided about her major right now, but it didn't seem to bother her much. Octavia seemed bold and brass, swearing every other sentence and making her opinion on things known. She seemed like a good contrast to Harper's polite, reserved self. They would balance each other out in time.

They all went to bed early that night, with plans to attend an orientation at the stadium in the morning. Clarke found it a bit harder to fall asleep that night than it had been the previous night, even though she was tired. She found herself listening to Raven's deep, easy breaths and staring at the ceiling.

Eventually, she drifted off into a fitful sleep, though it was filled with dreams that escaped her memory the second she woke up and left her feeling uneasy.

**Author's Note_**

**Okay, I know this chapter is kind of boring, but kind of cute too? I feel like under different circumstances, Harper would be just a sweetie. And I always imagined her with a bunch of little siblings. Anyway, hope you enjoyed and let me know your thoughts!**

**-Birch66724**


	4. Chapter 4 -WARNING-

**WARNING includes descriptions of sexual ****assault****. Please don't read if this is upsetting to you.**

The next four days were filled with everything that Clarke had thought college would be. Orientations and ice-breaker games and staying up until the wee hours of the morning with her roommates, laughing until she felt like she was going to pee her pants.

They went to the bookstore and got all of their textbooks and U of M gear to rep their college. They took the city bus to Target, but missed their stop and ended up riding around for over an hour across the city with a blind man who kept trying to solicit money from them. Raven and Octavia pointed out all of the places they knew from their time living in and around Minneapolis. One time, the 'blind' man gestured out the window at his favorite diner, at which point Octavia told him off for faking his disability and he got off at the following stop. They laughed without abandon as Raven flipped him off through the window and he reciprocated the gesture, raising his white cane into the air.

On Wednesday night, Finn came over to see Raven. Clarke retreated to Harper and Raven's room a few minutes after he arrived. She had said hello to Finn, then he had given her a weird look when Raven had her back turned, and Clarke felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle.

She didn't tell Octavia or Harper about it, saying simply that they had 'wanted some alone time'. The meaning of this was quickly grasped by the pair. Harper's mouth clamped shut and Octavia snickered. Clarke wasn't able to stop the girl before she started banging on the bathroom door.

"Don't forget to use protection!"

"Piss off, Octavia!" Raven yelled back. Clarke imagined her with her middle finger up to the door. It seemed to be a common gesture for Raven.

Clarke had been wondering all week why they hadn't met Octavia's brother yet, what with how much she texted him. When Clarke asked, Octavia had replied simply; "He thinks he's my dad," and rolled her eyes.

It was Saturday afternoon and Clarke was content to spend the whole weekend lounging around in preparation for classes starting on Monday.

Harper was painting her nails in the bathroom and the fumes of polish we permeating both rooms as the doors were constantly kept open like a hallway between the rooms unless the bathroom was in use.

"Alright bitches!" Octavia yelled, "I've made plans for us tonight."

Raven groaned and Clarke took her earbuds out skeptically. She had been sketching lazily on her bed.

"Alpha Phi Alpha." Octavia stepped over Harper and gazed at the three of them.

"Huh?" Raven raised a brow.

"Alpha Phi Alpha!" Octavia shouted, more insistent now. "It is the last free night before college starts, and we need to party it up!" she danced as she made her proclamation, whooping and swaying her hips.

"I don't know ab-"

"Shush! Live a little, Harp." Octavia patted the girl on the head. "They are having a party tonight, an end of summer type thing." she explained.

"I'm down," Raven agreed. Clarke looked at her, surprised. She hadn't expected Raven to agree so readily. "Can I invite Finn?"

"Sure! It's a frat party, you could bring a damn ostrich and no one would say a word," Octavia grinned. "Clarke?" She hurried over and cupped Clarke's face in her hands. "Please! It's our last free day! Then we're going to have to study and go to classes and-" she fake dry heaved at the prospect of _studying. _At _college._

"Well…" Clarke considered. Never in her life had she been to a college party. In fact, never in her life had Clarke even been drunk. She had some alcohol before, but never enough to be, well, _drunk. _

"'Well' is a yes in my book!" Octavia crooned, turning her attention back to Harper. "No way you can't go now! You'll be home alone!"

A few moments later, Harper had reluctantly agreed, Finn had been invited, and Octavia was digging through everyone's drawers to find the perfect outfits for each of them.

"I will not be caught dead in some whore dress!" Raven shouted at Octavia, who grinned like the Cheshire cat.

"I have the perfect thing for you." She tossed a skintight black dress at Raven and giggled.

"No!"

"C'mon! You're so hot Raven! Show yourself off!" Octavia danced provocatively and Harper giggled. Clarke cracked a grin.

The two dark haired girls argued while Harper painted Clarke's nails. Clarke never painted her nails as she was liable to chew the polish off. She definitely never painted her nails pink.

When she had protested the shade, Harper refused to release her hand until Clarke consented, claiming it looked great with her blond hair.

Octavia put Clarke in a black and grey dress with sequins that was not her style at all, but she dared not protest further. Somehow, Raven had been won over and was sitting with a scowl on the edge of her bed, the black dress piled in her lap.

Octavia made them all eat pasta and bread in the dining hall,

"You're going to need something to soak up all that alcohol."

Harper said she was drinking no more than two drinks and Clarke agreed. Octavia rolled her eyes and Raven raised her brows.

"We'll get you drunk, don't worry about it." Harper shook her head and Clarke silently set her resolve. Someone needed to stay sober if all of them were going to make it back to their dorm in one piece. Clarke decided that she would now be, in fact, drinking zero beers.

Finn arrived around eight, dressed casually in jeans and a band t-shirt. All the girls moved into the bathroom and Octavia's side of the room to get ready. Harper painted makeup on their faces and Octavia out them into their outfits.

Clarke was apprehensive about the whole affair. She wasn't one to dress up too often, but after a few moments, she let herself go and enjoyed the moment with her new friends. They played music and sang terribly and danced even worse.

"Here, Clarke," Octavia settled a jeweled headband onto Clarke's hairline.

"I look like I'm playing dress up!" Clarke objected, fiddling with her hair in the mirror.

"No! You don't, I promise! Your hair is curly and you can barely see it. It just gives you that extra little _pop!" _Octavia's eyes sparkled and Clarke couldn't refuse. Plus, she was already in too deep. The dress and the makeup and the shoes and new extravagant jewelry.

"You look gorgeous!" Finn complemented Raven, pulling her into a hug. He winked over his girlfriend's shoulder at Clarke, who pretended she didn't notice.

By 9:30, they were headed out of the campus to the frat house. Clarke's original feelings of foreboding had subsided into unabashed bliss as she sang off key as she walked down the street, arm and arm with Octavia who was already tipsy, even 100% sober.

Clarke could hear and smell the party long before she saw it. It wasn't even 10 pm and already the place was crawling. In the front yard, a beer pong tournament was taking place on white folding tables. Guys whooped and hollered, chugging and crushing cups, laughing and slapping each other on the back. Music pulsed out of the house's open windows, shaking the glass in the frames. People spilled out of the door towards a keg on the porch, laughing and leaning on one another.

Girls dressed much the same as they were danced with red solo cups in their hands and closed eyes, pressing their bodies up against anyone and everyone. The five of them stopped on the sidewalk outside of the house. Octavia dropped Clarke's arm and surveyed the scene with excited eyes. Harper looked apprehensive and Raven was sticking close to Finn.

"Let's get a drink!" Octavia yelled over the music, leading the way up onto the porch. One of the beer pong players whistled as they made their way up the walk. Clarke didn't turn around.

The guy filling cups from the keg started flirting with Octavia and she flirted right back. Clarke watched, slightly impressed at the easy flow of her words and the way she knew right when to place her hand on the guy's bicep so he looked up at her. He gave each of them a cup before Octavia slid her hand down his arm to interlace their fingers, leading him through the door with a little wave over her shoulder. They disappeared into the mass of pulsing bodies clogging the living room of the house while Raven, Finn, Harper and Clarke lingered on the porch a moment before going inside.

Harper pressed to Clarke's side and she was glad for that. Harper seemed just as bewildered as Clarke felt, but was doing a worse job of hiding it. Her bright eyes were wide and her head was on a constant swivel.

Raven wrapped her arms around Finn's neck, her cup precariously balanced on his shoulder as she swayed to the music. Clarke looked down at her own cup. Frothy beer filled it halfway. She had already decided she wouldn't be drinking tonight and discreetly set the cup down on a side table next to a disgusting looking sofa.

"Want to dance?" Harper had to shout in Clarke's ear to get her to hear. Clarke shrugged and nodded. What else could they do?

The next 20 minutes or so were painful for Clarke. The music was too loud and she didn't recognize any of the songs being played. The house was so hot and she was sweating, despite being scantily dressed. People were varying degrees of drunk, from just buzzed to stumbling and slurring words to throwing up in the corner.

Harper didn't stray from Clarke and they served as security for one another.

A pair of guys came up to them a while later. Clarke greeted them with a smile.

"Dancing alone?" The taller of the two leaned down and asked them.

"Yeah," Harper called back. "Care to fix that?"

"Harper!" Clarke giggled at her boldness.

The guys exchanged a glance. "Alright," The taller guy held his hand out to Clarke and she took it. He had short blond hair and muted brown eyes, hazed over by drink or something else.

"I'm Chase," he introduced himself. His breath smelled of booze and sex.

"Clarke,"

"Oh, I always liked a chick with a guy's name." Chase purred. Somehow, he was endearing in an oafish sort of way. Clarke smiled and hesitated only a moment before she closed the distance between them. His body was hot. As in temperature… but, he did have abs. Clarke could feel his stomach and chest through his thin blue shirt.

Clarke craned her neck to check on Harper, who was standing in front of the other guy, looking shyly up through her eyelashes. He seemed gentle, so Clarke turned her attention back to Chase.

"You a freshman?"

Clarke nodded and Chase smiled.

"Me too," Clarke knew he was lying but she didn't care. She let him put his hands on her hips and pull her in, letting herself enjoy the moment. College was starting in two days! Time to have a little fun.

The house pulsated and Clarke's head was throbbing along with it. Someone turned on some kind of DJ lights and flashes of blue and green and red cut lines across the hazy air. The skunky scent of marijuana floated down from upstairs. Clarke felt rebellious. Never in high school had she really been to any parties, and now she felt bold and adult.

Clarke danced with Chase for at least an hour before he started getting handsy and trying to kiss her, settling his lips on her neck when she turned her face away. She let him feel her up for a minute or two before she grabbed him by the wrist and pushed his hands away.

"No, I don't-"

"Wanna get outta here?" he asked suggestively.

"No, thanks," she stepped back, giving him an apologetic look. He frowned before moving on without another word. Clarke was alone then and momentarily overwhelmed. She scanned the crowd for her friends but didn't spot anyone she recognized.

"Clarke!" someone yelled. Clarke spun around to see Finn wading through the crowd towards here, a pair of cups held above his head. Clarke wasn't sure she wanted to be alone with Finn.

"Hey, Finn," Clarke said when he reached her. "Where's Raven at?"

"She upstairs. Passed out."

"Passed out?" Clarke asked, concerned.

"She's a bit of a lightweight." Finn chuckled.

"Don't you think you should be with her, I mean, she shouldn't be alone if she's unconscious," Clarke turned towards the stairs without waiting for Finn's response.

"Relax!" He called after her, pushing through the crowd to follow Clarke as she hurried towards the staircase. "Clarke!"

Clarke had made it to the top of the staircase before Finn caught up to her. "Where is she?" She spun back towards Finn. It was quieter upstairs, though she could feel the floor vibrating beneath her feet from the pounding bass speakers below.

"She's in here, she's safe."

"Better be," Clarke muttered. She pushed into the door that Finn had gestured to. Raven was there, sitting slumped on the floor beside a bed with a suspiciously stained duvet. The bedroom was empty and sparsely furnished, lit only by a streetlight glinting in through the window.

"Raven?" Clarke crouched down and took the girl by her shoulders, shaking her gently. After a moment Raven's head lurched up. Her eyes struggled to focus on Clarke's face, but she eventually managed.

"Clarkey? Where ya been?" she slurred.

Clarke rolled her eyes with a smile. "Right here, you dumbass."

"Humpf. Wake me up for school, Finn." Raven murmured, her head flopping to the side again, her mouth turned up in a tiny smile.

"See? She's just schlumped."

Clarke snorted, then sat on the edge of the bed. "Sorry, didn't mean to freak out on you."

"No worries. But you need a drink, Clarke. Here." Finn reached out one of his cups to her.

Clarke held up her hands. "No, someone has to stay sober to get these idiots home."

"That's literally why I'm here." Finn laughed and Clarke looked at him skeptically. "Raven called me, asking me if I wanted to come to this stupid party to bring you guys home, because she and Octavia wanted to get you and Harper wasted."

"What?" Clarke hopped to her feet.

Finn was smirking. "True. Guess Raven just forgot she was a lightweight." He took a long pull from one of the cups.

"Dumbass," Clarke muttered, nudging Raven's lax legs with the toe of Octavia's fancy shoes that she had been wearing.

"Here. Live a little," Finn held out the other cup, not the one he had drank from. Clarke hesitated a moment longer before accepting the red plastic cup. She took a sip, scrunching up her nose.

"Ew, what the hell is that?"

Finn shrugged. "Whatever was in the keg."

Clarke frowned. Along with the gross taste of whatever cheap beer it was, there seemed to be an underlying taste, sort of acidic and bitter.

"Come sit. We never got to talk."

Clarke was reluctant. Finn seemed pretty normal right now, but he still made her nervous. She sat beside him on the bed though, a sizable distance away, cradling the cup in her lap with both hands.

"Sorry about that day in the elevator," Finn apologized. Clarke broke her gaze from the floor to look at him. "I had no idea that you were Raven's roommate."

"That doesn't make it okay…" Clarke said slowly.

Finn didn't respond for a long beat. "I guess you're right," He drained the rest of his cup, fiddling with it to keep his hands busy.

Clarke didn't know what to say to him. She wanted to leave the room, to pick Raven up off the floor, find Harper and Octavia and go back to the dorm. And lock Finn outside. Why did he think it was okay to cheat on his girlfriend? Especially after Raven had expressed to Clarke just how much Finn meant to her. He was her whole family, her whole world. He clearly didn't feel the same. Even though Clarke had only known Raven a week, she felt such a deep loyalty and responsibility to her.

"But hey, tell me about yourself. I don't know hardly anything about you," Finn broke into her thoughts.

"Uh. Well, what do you want to know?" Clarke coughed, her throat was scratchy.

"Take a drink," Finn urged. Clarke did, cringing at the taste again. "Better?"

"Yeah," she replied, though she wasn't quite sure.

"Tell me about your family," Finn said.

"There isn't much. My mom's a workaholic and my dad's dead. I never had any siblings," Clarke took another drink. Maybe that's how people become alcoholics; any time they were forced to talk about their miserable families, they just drank.

"I didn't either,"

"Yeah, Raven told me about that… one time. Your mom, she wanted more kids…"

"Yeah. She had cancer. When I was like, three, I think."

"Cancer…" Clarke murmured. Her head felt fuzzy. She blinked slowly.

"But Clarke, what I said, in the elevator, was true."

"Wha-? Elevator?" Something felt wrong. Clarke felt like she needed to yawn, but her mouth wouldn't open.

"You're beautiful. You really are," Finn's face was close to hers now. Too close.

"I need to- I need to go," Clarke stammered.

"No, shhh. It's okay," Finn said. His voice sounded a million miles away, but Clarke knew he was close. So close.

His hand was on her thigh, sliding up. She tried to push him away. Why wouldn't her hand move from her side? Why couldn't she move her own hand?

"Lay down. You're alright," Finn was pushing her back. She tried to resist, but something was wrong with her muscles. The cup slipped from her numb fingers. She felt it splash on her bare leg.

"Finn, no."

"Quiet," Finn said. His mouth was on Clarke's. He tasted like beer and metal and everything utterly _wrong. _

"Stop it."

His hand was pushing up her dress. His body was pressing down on hers.

"Stop."

The word was faint. She couldn't manage to say another one. She wanted to.

She wanted to scream and his fingers felt for her underwear.

She wanted to cry out when he swung his leg over her.

She wanted to run when he kissed her jaw.

Something was wrong.

Something was wrong.

Everything was wrong.

"It's okay, you want this as much as I do," Finn's voice was there. So close.

Clarke faded away from a moment. Grey bubbles filled her eyes.

Then pain in a place she had never felt before. Not like this.

She did cry out then.

No one heard.

No one stopped him.

No one helped her.

She was alone.

"See? You wanted it too."

Clarke's senses dissolved, suddenly and all at once.

The whole world was black and silent and empty.

She was empty.

**Author's Note _**

**This chapter is... heavy. **

**My inbox is open if anyone wants to talk about this chapter, topic, or anything else. **

**Thanks for reading, and stay safe friends. **

**-Birch66724**


	5. Chapter 5

Sensation returned.

Something rough was rubbing against the side of her face.

She was moving.

Her eyes flashed open and she struggled then. She could move again.

"No, shhh! I'm not him. I'm not him." A deep voice that reverberated around in Clarke's head.

He was right. This _he_ wasn't _him. _

Clarke's body was tired. Her eyes slipped closed again. The gentle motion continued.

He was someone else. And he smelled of the rain and the night and safety.


	6. Chapter 6

Sensation returned again, this time slower and more completely, to one sense at a time.

Hearing came first; gentle breathing, a running faucet, faint footsteps, voices from the floor above or below.

Clarke's nose reawakened to the flowery scent of fabric softener and clean linens and morning haze.

Next her skin tingled with warmth, aware of a scratchy covering.

Finally her eyes came alive, moving behind their lids which were held shut by gloppy makeup.

Her body came alive. Clarke shifted her stiff legs and pain erupted from her lower abdomen and her eyes flew open involuntarily with slight delay as mascara unstuck itself.

For a groggy, disoriented moment she thought she was back in her bed in Oregon. It was several seconds until her brain caught up and processed what her eyes were seeing, and she realized she was in her dorm room.

Then her brain told her why her pulse was racing, why her palms were sweaty and why she was checking all the corners of the room for a shadowy figure.

The party. The dancing. Finn. The drink. Raven. The bedroom. Finn. _Finn. _

Clarke's breath hitched.

She couldn't move.

What if he was here?

Was Raven here?

Had he done the same thing to her?

Clarke sat up, ensuring her roommate was there. Only a mop of black hair spilled out from Raven's bed as the blankets rose and fell with her gentle breaths. Clarke sighed in relief, then was awash with guilt. Finn and Raven. Finn and her.

Clarke shuddered.

Her abdomen ached.

What had happened?

How did she end up back in her room?

She couldn't remember…

She tried to back track.

She started to whisper to herself, the only way to organize her thoughts was to say them aloud.

"Okay, we got ready in the dorm, then we walked to the party, then… I danced. And Harper. And… that boy. Charlie. No. Chris. No, not that,"

She stopped.

She couldn't remember his name.

"It's not important. Who cares. What happened after that?" She kept her voice soft as to not wake Raven.

Clarke sat, racking her brain. How had she gotten from dancing to the bedroom? That part was blank. Black. She remembered Finn, on her, the pain. Then it was black again. How did she get here?

_I have to pee. _That was all she could think now. Pushing back her covers, she looked down at her outfit. She was still wearing Octavia's sequined dress. She also had on a pair of grey sweatpants. She frowned. _When did I put these on?_

_Why can't I remember? I didn't even drink that much._

She swung her legs off the bed, but the movement sent her head spinning with stars. She swallow stiffly, gripping the edge of the mattress and taking a deep breath. Her mouth felt horribly stale and dry.

It took a few moments to gather enough courage to push herself to her feet.

Clarke hissed, sucking in a breath. It hurt. A lot. More than she expected. _What did he do to me?_

She waddled, hunched over, to the bathroom and lowered herself excruciatingly slowly onto the toilet. Upon pulling down her sweatpants, she discovered she was wearing no panties, and she was painted with blood.

Clarke shuddered and started to clean herself up, not thinking. She couldn't think, it was all too awful. She tossed the ruined pants into the shower and cleaned herself. It hurt.

Water dripped onto Clarke's bare thigh. She hadn't realized she was crying.

"Stop it," she scolded herself. Time slowed as she remembered saying those exact words to _him _last night.

"_Stop it!"_

_He hadn't stopped._

She sat for God knows how long, frozen in pain and shock and fear and disbelief.

A soft knock came from the door. Clarke jumped, her heart jolting. Liquid fear trickled down her back, quenched only by Harper's gentle voice.

"Someone in there?"

Clarke couldn't respond for a long time.

"Yeah, just a minute," she croaked. Her voice sounded awful.

"Jeez, rough night?" Harper joked quietly from the other side of the door.

Clarke couldn't respond.

She only painfully stood and tugged the dress down before scrubbing her hands furiously in the sink and silently pulling the shower curtain closed so Harper wouldn't see the pants. Clarke avoided looking at herself in the mirror.

She shut the bathroom door behind her and made her way back to her bed, which was also crimson-stained. She stared at the bloodied sheets for a long moment.

_I guess I'll just say I got a heavy flow a few days early. _

She was thinking up lies without even knowing why. People couldn't know about this. What would they think?

Clarke changed into clean sweatpants and a sweatshirt, placing a thick pad into her underwear. Then she quietly stripped her bed, balling up the soiled bottom sheet and tossing it to the floor.

Finally, she dug out a few ibuprofen pills and swallowed them using Raven's water bottle. Clarke gazed at the sleeping girl, making sure she was still resting undisturbed.

She crawled onto her bare mattress and tugged her quilt over her, wanting to do nothing but sleep.

But sleep didn't come.

Clarke drifted in and out of consciousness for several more hours until Raven's stirring brought her firmly into reality. She opened her eyes and watched Raven sit up and run her hands down her face and through her hair.

"T'hell happened to your bed?" Clarke was slightly relieved to hear just how gravelly Raven's voice sounded too.

"Heavy flow," Clarke mumbled into her blanket.

Raven frowned. "That sucks," she stood and stretched. "What happened last night?"

Clarke's breath caught in her throat and her heart jumped.

"I don't-know. I don't remember," she lied.

Raven gazed quizzically at her. "Hmm. Are you okay, Clarke?"

"Yeah!" she said quickly. "I just- have bad cramps, is all."

_Why am I lying?_

"Good thing you didn't start bleeding at the party," Raven yawned. Her eyes were thankfully closed when Clarke's face crumpled. She tucked the blanket over her head and took a few steadying breaths.

A moment later, Octavia was banging down the bathroom door. Harper trailed her into the room, looking less enthusiastic.

"How was last night?" Octavia asked brightly. Clarke sat up in bed.

"Rough," she muttered.

"Aww, babe," Octavia crooned, sitting on the edge of her bed. "You poor thing."

"Thanks," Clarke said dully. She felt like an entirely different person than she had been the previous morning. Something deep within her had changed, twisted and contorted beyond recognition. It was eating at her insides, making her throat feel tight. She couldn't tell these girls. They weren't broken like she was now, and Clarke couldn't be the one to ruin them. Raven especially.

"I honestly don't remember anything," Raven grumbled. "Finn left me a text saying he brought me home around 1 AM."

"Yeah, he did. Then Bellamy showed up," Octavia glared down at her phone.

"Bellamy?" Clarke asked.

"My _brother. _He found out from God knows who that we were at that party and showed up and busted us. Like he's my _dad." _

"I remember that," Harper chipped in. "He called that Lyft for us and sent us home."

"I don't remember it at all." Clarke said.

"That's 'cause you weren't there." Octavia informed her. "When Bellamy showed up, he found you and Raven both passed out upstairs. He put me and Harp in the Lyft and sent Raven with Finn. I didn't want to leave you there, Clarke, but Bell said he'd get you home."

Clarke looked incredulously at Octavia.

"You really don't remember?" Harper asked.

Clarke flopped back down onto her bed.

"Were you drugged or something?" Octavia asked jokingly. Clarke's eyes flew open.

_Was I drugged? _Finn and that cup… and the taste. _Oh God, Oh God, Oh God._

No one said anything for a moment, then Octavia broke the silence.

"I'm hungry. Wanna go downstairs and get something to eat?"

"I'm down,"

"Sure,"

"Clarke?"

"Uh, I think I'm going to stay here for a bit. I'm feeling a little nauseous." At least that wasn't a lie. Clarke's stomach was rolling.

"You sure? Are you feeling sick, Clarke? Did you eat something at the party last night?" Harper walked over and laid her hand on Clarke's forehead with a caring expression.

"No, no. I've just- never been hungover before, I guess."

Octavia snickered. "You'll get used to it."

Raven made a face at Octavia before herding her out into the hall.

"Be back in a bit, Clarke. Call if you need anything."

"Thanks," Clarke rolled over in her bed, facing the wall.

The door clicked shut and she started to cry. She didn't want to, but she couldn't help it.

Had Finn _drugged _her? He couldn't have. He couldn't do something like that, could he? _Well, I never thought he would do what he did to me already…. But he did. _

Clarke hugged her knees up to her chest and shut her eyes. She didn't know what to do. Should she tell someone? Who? She couldn't tell Raven. Absolutely not. Octavia? No. Harper? Clarke didn't think she would be able to. Should she go to the police? Did she even have any proof? Would they believe her? Should she confront Finn?

Clarke mulled over her thoughts, knowing full well that she wasn't going to follow through on any of the things she thought of.

_But what if I don't tell anyone, and he does it again?_

She shuddered. Suddenly she couldn't lay here and think about it anymore.

Rising from bed, Clarke threw the blanket to the floor. She went to the bathroom and retrieved the bloody sweatpants and balled them up with the sheet before burying them at the bottom of her laundry basket. Her hands were shaking.

_Get a hold of yourself. _She scolded. After a moment, she tossed her bottle of detergent onto the pile of clothes and picked up the basket. It was the same basket that Finn had carried for her on the first day she met him. Clarke resisted the urge to drop the basket and scrub her hands clean, knowing she was touching the same handles he had.

"It's okay," she told herself aloud. "Get a grip. Do some laundry and take a shower. I'll be better then."

Clarke slipped her bare feet into her shoes and carried the laundry to the elevator. It opened right away. She stepped inside and the door slid shut. She punched B for the basement, where the student laundry was. The elevator felt haunted. Finn had been here. With her. Alone. What if he had assaulted her then?

"Stop," She commanded herself, squeezing her eyes shut. The elevator stopped at the third floor.

Clarke felt her pulse jump. She wasn't in control of her own body and she was petrified.

A guy stepped onto the elevator. Clarke looked up to see him, to reassure her racing pulse that it wasn't Finn. It wasn't Finn. This guy was taller, much taller than Finn, with broader shoulders and a more adult looking face. He had a mess of black curls and brown eyes and a strong jaw.

Clarke thought she would find herself reassured that this man wasn't Finn, but instead she noticed his huge hands and powerful frame. _He could easily overpower me. _

The elevator doors shut. They shut Clarke in with this man. She felt her throat tighten.

"Hey," he said. His voice was rich, gentle. Clarke met his eyes. He looked… concerned.

Clarke could manage no words. She gave a tight lipped smile and looked at the digital display above the door.

2.

"How are you?" he asked. _Why is talking to me? _

"Fine," Clarke tried to say but it came out a whisper.

"You're Clarke." he said simply.

"I don't know you," She breathed, trying to step back, only to meet the back of the elevator.

1.

"It's okay," He held up his hands. Clarke didn't move. The bar on the elevator was pressing into her back. "I'm Bellamy."

Clarke's eyes flashed in recognition. _Oh God. _

"Octavia's…" She couldn't say more.

"Yeah, I'm Octavia's brother. I don't even want to know what she's told you about me," Bellamy ran a hand through his hair and scoffed.

Clarke didn't reply. The elevator came to a halt. The doors opened. Clarke wanted to dart out of the elevator, but Bellamy said,

"Want me to carry your basket? I'm headed back there to get my laundry, too."

Clarke didn't respond but Bellamy took the basket from her hands. She followed him off the elevator, staring at the floor as he led the way down the hall to the room with washers and dryers at the back of the basement. She forced down the sick sense of déjà vu at the sight of the basket in another man's hands.

Bellamy didn't speak either.

"Here you go," He said, placing the basket down in front of an open washing machine.

"Thanks," Clarke breathed, starting to move her clothes into the washer so she wouldn't have to look at Bellamy. _What did he know? Did he really see me last night? What kind of state could I have been in? Oh God..._

He didn't move away, so Clarke paused. She couldn't take anything else out of the basket without revealing the bloodied linens.

Bellamy was looking at her with an unreadable expression so Clarke stared at him.

"Hey, uh I don't-" he looked away. Clarke didn't. What was he trying to say?

"What?" she asked.

"I'm sorry." he finally said, meeting her eyes. He looked sad. Utterly sad.

Clarke sniffed and rubbed her nose. "Nothing to be sorry for," She swallowed, averting her eyes and biting her lip. _He knows. He knows. Oh God, he knows. _

Bellamy didn't move. He had to leave before Clarke could empty her basket, before she could start up the washing machine and try to erase the evidence.

"Don't-" Clarke cleared her throat. "Don't tell anyone. Nothing happened." she lied.

"Clarke…" Bellamy whispered. Clarke could not look at him.

"Nothing happened," She said, stronger this time. "I don't remember anything."

Bellamy made a noise, halfway between a groan and a whine. Clarke looked up at his dark face. He was handsome in a solemn sort of way.

"Okay, whatever you say." He said, then turned and walked away.

Clarke thought she would be relieved at Bellamy's absence, but she felt more hollow than ever. She stuffed her sheets into the washer and dumped in detergent without measuring it before hurrying back to her dorm. She went up five flights of stairs instead of getting into the elevator again. She wasn't sure she could ever get into that elevator alone again.

**Author's Note**

**Poor Clarkey. :( At least Bellamy was there for her. Also, I apologize for making Finn the bad guy in this story, I really don't hate him.**

**Thank you to those who have left reviews, they truly do make my day and serve as the best motivation to write. Addressing one guest review, about the previous chapter being so short, it was nothing other than a stylistic choice. I don't particularly like inserting breaks within my chapters, opting to instead create a separate chapter. Sort of like scenes.**

**No chapters in the foreseeable future are that short.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Birch66724**


	7. Chapter 7

"This was on the door for you, Clarke."

Raven and the other girls were back from breakfast and Clarke looked up from her sketchbook. She hadn't drawn anything, just stared at the blank sheet of stark, pure paper.

Raven handed her a folded piece of paper with scotch tape on the top. Her name was scrawled across it in all capital letters, clearly a man's handwriting.

"Hmm.," Clarke wasn't sure she wanted to read it, whatever it was.

"Harper insisted we bring you these," Raven set a muffin and a banana on the nightstand. "You need to eat to feel better. Soak up that alcohol." Raven clicked her tongue.

"Thanks,"

"No problem," Raven gave her a curious look then said, "I'm going to shower, need to use the bathroom?" Clarke shook her head.

She waited until she heard the water start up before unfolding the paper.

**Clarke,**

**I'm so sorry. I know you don't know me, but I'm here for you. I won't say anything, but I'd love to beat the shit out of the bastard that did that to you. Just say the word. I think you should talk to someone, to at least get it off your chest.**

**Don't hesitate to reach out if you need anything. I'm in room 312, right below you. **

**651-569-1033. Text anytime. **

**-Bellamy**

Clarke stared at the note. Bellamy had harsh handwriting. It looked like him; dark and bold.

Part of her wanted to tear up the paper or burn it or soak it in water to smear the black ink. It linked her to the fact that something had happened; a sort of permanence that settled over the situation, like a snowfall over formerly green field.

Clarke felt anger rise in her chest then. Who did this Bellamy guy think he was, acting like he was Clarke's savior, the only one who she could turn to?

She was about to crumple to paper and chuck it across the room, when it dawned on her that he was right. Bellamy was the only other person besides _Finn _that knew about this.

_How much did he really know though? He wasn't there. How much do I even know?_

Did he know about the cup, the laced drink?

Clarke picked up her phone and added Bellamy's number to her contacts. She had no intention of texting him, but she did it anyway. After that, she read the note again. Her lips hinted at a smile as she read, '_beat the shit out of that bastard'. _Clarke didn't typically condone violence, but if Finn was on the receiving end… maybe.

She ran her fingers over the ink, then folded the note and tucked it into one of her drawers, hidden safely in the folds of her winter coat which she hopefully wouldn't need for several more months.

"You should try a shower, Clarke. I feel _so _much better!" Raven moaned as she came out of the steamy bathroom, wrapped in a towel.

"I was thinking I would," Clarke agreed. She showered, then convinced Raven to go down to the basement to switch her laundry with her. The thought of stepping into the elevator alone, or worse yet, with a strange man, made her stomach roll.

Raven didn't have much to say. She fiddled with a dryer that had an OUT OF ORDER sign on in for a moment while Clarke scowled at her sheets. The blood had faded to a light brown splotch on the white linen.

"Now it just looks like you shit the bed."

"Thanks, Raven," Clarke muttered as her roommate snickered.

"Hey, it's not so bad. I won't tell anyone. Promise."

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise that I won't tell anyone you shit the bed." Raven laughed brightly and Clarke smiled a little bit. For a moment the cloud of worry and fear that had been hovering around her head dissipated.

It returned moments later though and followed Clarke all day. She spent most of the time resting, sketching, and planning for tomorrow. Mondays Clarke had Chemistry at 8:30 AM until 11:00. Then she had a break for lunch, then Calculus at 1:30 PM until 3:00.

Clarke had been excited to start classes all week, and for years prior. She longed for college courses in high school, when she was stuck in mundane classes relearning the same things year after year. But now, she wasn't thinking about the courses themselves, but the walk across campus to get to the buildings and the strangers in each class.

That night, Raven shut their light out at 10 PM, wanting to get to sleep early. She was snoring lightly by 10:15 while Clarke lay staring at the ceiling. The darkness made her wary and she could not sleep. Clarke tossed and turned, trying everything she could think of to fall asleep; counting, tensing and relaxing her muscles, taking deep breaths, she even turned on some white noise sounds on her phone. But every time she closed her eyes and lay still, she could see Finn, feel his fingers on her neck, her leg, her face.

It was 2:54 AM when Clarke grabbed her phone off the nightstand and jabbed the screen to turn off the noise. It wasn't helping at all.

For a split second, she toyed with the idea of texting Bellamy.

_No! He's asleep. And like he cares. _Clarke tossed her phone to the floor and rolled over, pressing her forehead to the drywall. She needed to get up at 7 AM, which was only four hours and six minutes of sleep, if she fell asleep right now.

_What would Bellamy say if I texted him? _

If he were awake and cared to respond, what would he say? Clarke tried to imagine something he could text back that would make her feel better, but she couldn't. What had happened couldn't be undone, and no amount of reassurance or sweet words could change that.

Eventually, Clarke surrendered herself to a night of sleeplessness. Once she came to terms with the fact that her first day of college classes was going to pass in a tired blur, she finally drifted into a restless sleep, but sleep nonetheless. She dreamed of nothing.

Clarke had an awful first day of classes. She had to leave chemistry for 20 minutes because the guy who sat next to her had long hair and she had a minor freak out because she thought he was Finn. She meant to get lunch, but her stomach was rolling and she knew if she bought something she wouldn't be able to eat it anyway.

Then, Clarke could not find her calculus classroom, as it had been moved last minute and she had not received the email notice. She walked in 15 minutes late and everyone stared at her. Clarke nearly started crying, which was so unlike her that it made her angry, which made it feel even more like she was going to cry.

As soon as class was released, Clarke went home, crawled under the quilt, and cried. Thankfully, Raven was still out, so Clarke had a few moments to wallow in her own self pity. Frustrated at her inability to control her emotions, Clarke wanted to scream, but tensed up her whole body to keep the noise in, which made her ache. The pain between her legs had somewhat subsided, but it was definitely still there, lingering as a constant reminder.

Her phone buzzed and Clarke sniffled and reached for it.

A message from Bellamy.

_B: Hope your first day was good. _

Clarke looked at the words. What was he getting at? He must have known it was awful.

Before she knew what had happened, she was out of bed and down the stairs, standing outside of room 312. Her hand was raised to knock when she finally snapped back to reality.

"What am I doing?" she said aloud.

Something moved inside the room, Clarke stepped back from the door until her backside bumped into the wall across the hallway.

The door opened and Clarke turned, hurrying away, not looking back.

"Clarke!" Bellamy called gently after her. She couldn't turn around.

"Hey!" She was to the stairs now, leaning forward to press open the door to the stairwell. A hand was on her arm.

Clarke leapt backwards with a gasp as if she had been burned.

"I'm sorry," Came Bellamy's immediate reply. "I shouldn't have touched-"

"No, I shouldn't have come," Clarke whispered. "I don't know what I was thinking." She moved again towards the stairs.

"I'm glad you did. I want to help. However I can."

Clarke paused, leaning her forehead against the door. Bellamy's voice was so warm. She could feel his presence right behind her, but she didn't feel cornered. She felt… sheltered.

"I'm sorry," She whispered and slipped into the stairwell, climbing the steps quickly.

Raven came home shortly after, absolutely thrilled.

"This mechanical engineering class is actually the coolest thing I have ever done."

"It's the first day?" Clarke said questioningly.

"Exactly! It's day one and we already get to design our own ball bearings!" Raven was pulling things from her backpack and stacking them on her desk. "You'd think they were just little balls, but no! There are so many independent variables, like material, weight, density...I think steel is too common, so I was thinking maybe some titanium, only, I don't know if I can use that because the chemical composition is-"

Clarke listened Raven's explanation although she had little idea what the girl was talking about. It was nice to see her so excited though, at least someone had a good first day of college.

That night, Raven was engrossed in her project, waving Harper away when she interrupted with an invitation to go along to the dining hall.

"Alrighty then," Harper held up her hands in mock surrender. Clarke had reluctantly agreed to go with her, forcing herself from her cocoon of blankets.

"Clarke?"

"Coming," Clarke slid on her shoes and walked with Harper.

"Hey, have you been feeling okay?"

Clarke could feel her rising panic. "Yes. I'm fine. Why do you ask that?" She heard the defensive sound of her own voice and inwardly cringed.

Harper gave her a sad look. "You don't seem yourself Clarke. I just wanted to know if you were feeling sick."

_Okay. She thinks I'm just sick._

"Well I have been a little under the weather." Clarke said, trying to make it sound like an admission. "Probably all the germs on campus, I must have caught a cold."

Harper clearly didn't believe this explanation but, thankfully, she let it drop for now.

"I found out that I get to student teach at Dowling Elementary next semester!" She said excitedly, holding the door open for Clarke.

"Really? I thought you did that like, way later."

"I did too, but they are trying a new system, where every student gets to go student teach for one quarter each year.

"That's awesome,"

"Yeah, I'm super excited. And hungry. Is that lasagna at the hot food line?"

They ate supper without incident, but on the walk back to Frontier Hall, Harper tried again to broach the subject of Clarke's obvious discontentment.

"I know that some people have a hard time… _adjusting _to college life," She started, pausing halfway through to find the right word.

"I'm fine Harper, really."

"No, I know. But I'm just saying, let me know if you need anything, okay?" Harper smiled softly at Clarke.

"I know, and I appreciate you being there for me."

Harper wrapped Clarke up in a hug. At first, Clarke stiffened, but soon relaxed into her friend's grasp, letting herself be momentarily comforted. Harper was sweet and innocent and this moment cemented the fact that Clarke could never burden her with the weight of what she was carrying. It was nice to know she cared though, and a hug every now and again couldn't hurt anything.

"Get some sleep tonight, okay?"

"I slept last-"

"Clarke, I sleep right on the other side of that wall. I felt you tossing and turning all night long." Harper gave her a wry smile.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I hope I didn't keep you up!" Clarke said guiltily, aware that her own issues were now negatively affecting her friends.

"No, it wasn't your fault. But Octavia's snoring, that's another thing!" Clarke laughed and Harper bid her goodnight before going into her dorm. Clarke let herself into room 412.

Raven was still hunched over her desk, her forehead nearly touching that paper.

"Turn a light on before your eyes dry up." Clarke walked over and flipped on her lamp.

"I could see," Raven objected, abruptly reaching out and typing something into the search bar of her laptop.

"You're welcome," Clarke chided and Raven grunted in response. Clarke yawned and flopped down on her bed. She didn't have any of her own homework, or at least none she had heard her professors telling the class about.

After changing into sweats and brushing her teeth and hair, Clarke was actually feeling decent. Her dinner with Harper had put her in a good mood, and the pain between her legs had decreased to a dull ache. As long as she didn't think about things, she was golden. Well, more like a piece of limestone painted gold, but close enough.

After a few episodes of The Office, which Harper had gotten her hooked on, Clarke shut out her light at 9:30. She was tired.

"Goodnight, Grandma." Raven teased her. Clarke stole Raven's signature retort and flipped her roommate off. Raven only snickered.

Clarke snuggled down in bed and lay content for a few minutes.

_Tomorrow won't be the same as today. I am going to put this all behind me and move on. _

Just as Clarke was thinking through tomorrow's schedule, 10 AM English Composition, 2 PM Human physiology, her phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Clarke reached out and grabbed it.

A text from Bellamy;

_B: Hope your night looked up._

Clarke frowned at the screen, unlocking it. She realized she had never replied to his earlier text, only running down to his room in a confused daze. Her feelings from earlier came flooding back and her throat felt thick.

Why was Bellamy doing this? Did he think she needed him? That he was her savior?

Irritably, Clarke slapped her phone back down on the nightstand a bit harder than she had planned. She saw Raven glance up with a raised brow.

"Boy troubles?" she joked.

Clarke froze. She wanted to scream. If only Raven knew…

"You could say that," she whispered, burying her face.

'Clarke?" Raven asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

"M'fine," Clarke mumbled, praying to whatever higher power would listen for Raven not to press her. She felt certain that everything would come flooding out of her mouth before Clarke could stop it.

"Okay," Raven said.

Clarke laid in bed, staring at the blank wall, listening to Raven's pencil scratch and her fingers fly over her keyboard. They were comforting, normal sounds and as long as they continued, Clarke could focus on them instead of the voices in her memory.

When Raven finally pushed her chair back from her desk and went into the bathroom to get ready for bed, Clarke was still wide awake. Raven settled onto her mattress and silence fell over the room.

"_It's okay."_

Clarke shivered.

"_Lay down."_

Finn's acidic voice floated to the forefront of Clarke's mind from where it was deeply etched into the very tissue of her brain.

"_You want this as much as I do."_

"Go away!" Clarke whispered urgently, clamping her hands over her ears. This was worse than last night. Much worse.

Raven stirred and Clarke shuddered, hearing her sequined dress slide up her thigh instead of Raven's dark blue quilt rustling against the wall.

Clarke couldn't take it. She needed a distraction. She grabbed her phone off the nightstand and sat up in bed. Her phone unlocked where she had left it last. On Bellamy's texts.

_Hope your night looked up. _

He had sent it over four hours ago now; it was past 1 AM.

Clarke responded to him without thought, just as she had gone down to his dorm earlier.

_C: I can't sleep._

She stared at those three words, then clicked off her phone, not expecting Bellamy to reply. He ought to be asleep. Clarke lay back down, resting her phone on her chest.

"_You want this-" _

Finn's voice replaying in Clarke's mind was interrupted by her phone's vibration.

Clarke felt her pulse quicken. Bellamy wasn't _supposed _to respond.

_B: What's up?_

What was she supposed to say to that. Did he mean, what's up that's preventing her from sleeping, or just, what was up? Considering not replying, Clarke turned her phone off again. The bright screen hurt her eyes in the dark room anyway.

The phone buzzed again.

_B: Want to talk?_

Clarke swallow stiffly and replied;

_C: About what?_

_B: Anything._

Clarke looked at the word.

_C: Raven's obsessed with ball bearings._

Clarke smiled gently. It was just random enough to distract herself.

_B: Your roommate Raven?_

_C: How many Ravens do you know?_

_B: Fair point. _

Clarke smiled softly, thinking about what to say next.

_C: Which side of the room is your bed on?_

It took Bellamy a few moments to reply and Clarke started to fret that he'd fallen asleep.

_B: The left. You're right on top of me._

Clarke cracked a grin before Bellamy's next text came in quickly.

_B: I'm so sorry that was insensitive._

Clarke hadn't even thought of it like that… how his joke related to her… situation. How did he know which side her bed was on anyway? Octavia must have mentioned sometime.

_C: Don't be sorry, it made me laugh. _

_B: Really?_

_C: Yes, really._

_B: I didn't hear you._

_C: I didn't laugh out loud, I just exhaled abruptly through my nose. _

_B: Oh, I see. Couldn't wake Raven?_

Clarke glanced over to her roommate, who was definitely still in dreamland.

_C: Absolutely not. She'd start talking about titanium ball bearings again. _

_B: What a nightmare. What ever are ball bearings?_

_C: Couldn't say._

Clarke yawned, then tapped out another message.

_C: I should get to sleep. Thanks for talking to me, Bellamy._

_B: Anytime. Hope it helped._

_C: It did. Sleep tight. _

_B: And don't let the bedbugs bite._

Clarke clicked off her phone and set it on the nightstand gently, like it was a precious gem. She felt herself drifting off to sleep, this time with Bellamy's gentle voice playing in her ears.

**Author's Note_**

**I like this chapter. I hope you do, too. It was bit longer than my other ones, maybe bordering on too long? I'm not sure.**

**Thank you to those who have favorited and followed and especially those who reviewed. 100% day brightener right there. :)**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Birch66724**


	8. Chapter 8

Bellamy placed his phone beside his pillow and shut his eyes. It had been pure luck that he was awake when Clarke texted him. Something had crashed over in Jasper and Monty's room and woken him up with a jolt.

After receiving Clarke's text, he was glad for the two obnoxious boys for a second. But it was only a second. The two of them were always running experiments in the shower or building towers of books or stacking their beds on top of each other, trying to create something they called 'The Double Decker Bed Supreme'.

Bellamy was unsettled now, after texting Clarke, as he didn't know what his place in her situation was. He thought back to Saturday night, which was only two days ago, though felt more like weeks had passed since then.

Jasper had told Bellamy he'd seen the four girls heading out after Bellamy became worried when no one had answered his knock on Octavia's door. Jasper also mentioned that he knew of a party at Alpha Phi Alpha. Bellamy still remembered the way his heart had sunk at Jasper's words. That frat had a bad reputation.

As Bellamy set out across campus, his only concern had been for Octavia. He didn't know any of the other girls, beyond what Octavia had tersely told him, which was little more than their names.

When he'd arrived, he'd found Octavia quickly enough, dancing on an end table, singing into a beer bottle like a microphone. She'd refused to leave without her roommates. Bellamy remembered how angry he had been, pulling Octavia towards the door, but she had fought back and it was making a scene. It didn't matter that he was her brother, all people saw was a man trying to pull a girl out of a house that she clearly didn't want to leave.

Bellamy was forced to concede to her wishes, and had walked through that whole house, looking for those other three girls. The place was packed and it wreaked like cigarettes and vomit. Thinking back on it now, he was probably in the house when Clarke was upstairs, when it was happening… if only he had started his search there, it could have been prevented… But by the time Bellamy opened the door to that bedroom, Clarke was lying alone on that disgusting bed, unconscious, with her skirt up.

Bellamy remembered so vividly the way his blood had started to boil, seeing that poor girl there. Clearly, something was not right with her. He quickly fixed her dress and tried to wake her up, but she remained completely unresponsive. Part of him wanted to make Octavia see what could have happened to her, but another part wanted to protect his little sister, to shield her from the horrors of a night gone so terribly wrong.

One of the other girls, Raven, was there too, on the floor beside the foot of the bed. Bellamy had Clarke propped up on the wall when Raven's boyfriend came into the room. He woke Raven up and said he'd make sure she got home, tugging her to her feet without sparing a glance at the unconscious girl on the bed. Bellamy couldn't remember his name, but he looped a arm around Raven and she had stumbled out the door, talking drunkenly and grabbing at his shaggy hair.

The next few minutes were a blur. Bellamy had picked up Clarke, one hand under her knees, the other around her back, her head slumped onto his shoulder. She was limp as a ragdoll. He didn't know what to do. It was a bewildering experience, because for the first time, Bellamy didn't know what the right thing to do was. He saw red and the only thing he wanted to do was to beat the daylights out of whatever sick fuck had done this to a girl. Instead, he'd tightened his grip on the poor girl, vowing to get her back home safely.

As he carried Clarke into the hallway, he was worried he would be met with resistance. Bellamy knew that if he saw some dude carrying an unconscious girl from a party, he'd have a few choice things to say to him.

Luckily, or disturbingly, no one said a thing. He still wanted to shield Octavia from this sight, so he had placed Clarke down gently on a chair on the porch without his sister or Harper seeing.

He'd then ordered a Lyft and told them that Clarke wanted to walk back and get some fresh air and he wasn't going to let her walk alone. So, he'd shuffled Octavia and her roommate into the car and sent them back to the dorm. Harper had seemed sober enough to be suspicious of Bellamy's story about Clarke, so he figured she'd make sure they made it up to their room.

He watched the car turn the corner before jogging back up the walkway. He had to get Clarke off that porch. He'd scooped her up and walked quickly down the street, unsure what to do with her. Should he take her to the hospital? What was she drugged with? Was she going to wake up on her own? Was she going to wake up at all?

Bellamy paused halfway back to the dorm and sat down on a bench. Clarke was shuddering. Did that mean she was coming back around? Or was she getting worse? He took off his jacket and zipped it up around her. She looked like she was wearing a sack, drowning in his over sized jacket, but at least she looked less exposed.

He decided just to take her back to her dorm. She was breathing okay and her heart rate seemed normal, from what little Bellamy knew about medical things. And besides, what would he tell the hospital? He didn't even know her last name, for Christ's sake.

They were almost back to the dorm when Clarke stirred. She tried to fight against Bellamy's arms and he damn near lost his hold on her. Even in her weakened state, she was going to do anything to prevent another attack.

It absolutely broke his heart, and that's when Bellamy knew he was going to do anything he could to help her. He had tried to reassure her, and it must have worked because she stopped fighting. Or maybe she had been taken back under by the drugs. Either way, she slipped back into oblivion and became limp, her head lolling into the dip between his shoulder and neck.

Thankfully, the lobby of Frontier Hall was empty when Bellamy pushed through the door. Under the fluorescent lights of the Hall, the situation hit him in full. Clarke's face was smudged with makeup and her hair was a snarly mess. Bellamy noticed the little jeweled headband tangled in her blond hair. It was Octavia's. His knees almost buckled as the realization that this could have just as easily been Octavia smacked him in the face.

He stood with Clarke in the elevator, murmuring to her. Her face was crumpled into a look of terror and she squirmed every so often in her stupor. Maybe Bellamy had imagined it, but he swore that she relaxed just a bit as he talked to her.

He pushed open the door to dorm number 412 with his foot. A lamp was on inside but the room was empty. Bellamy guessed at which bed was Clarke's. He picked the one with the purple and green patch quilt because Clarke didn't seem like a dark blue person to him.

He realized now that he had picked right and felt a small sort of satisfaction for making the correct decision for her.

After he layed Clarke down on her bed, he'd taken a step back and looked at her. She looked simply miserable. He'd opened the first drawer he'd seen and found a pair of sweatpants. Then he'd taken off her shoes, which he realized with a pang were also Octavia's. He slid the sweatpants up over Clarke's legs, averting his eyes when he pulled up the skirt of the dress to settle the waistband in place.

When he looked down at his hands, he realized they were bloody. He looked down at his shirt and saw blood on it as well. His stomach rolled and he felt like he was going to be sick. Not that the sight of blood made him feel dizzy, but the thought that someone could be so sick as to violate a girl and make her bleed, and then leave her there, alone and exposed. Bellamy was disgusted.

He washed his hands in the bathroom, pressing his ear to the door on the other side, to Octavia and Harper's room, to ensure they had indeed made it home safely.

Bellamy didn't know what he could do about Clarke's bleeding and decided he'd just have to leave that alone. He gently unzipped his jacket from around her and slid it out, putting it on himself to cover up his blood stained shirt. It smelled like alcohol and sweat, but under that, something faintly sweet. Bellamy realized that it was Clarke's scent, slightly flowery but with a harsher air of the wind and night. That was one thing that guy couldn't take from her at least.

Bellamy reached down and smoothed the quilt over Clarke, tucking it in around her body to keep her warm. Then, without thinking, he had bent down and kissed her forehead, like he used to do to Octavia when she was little. He hadn't tucked his little sister into bed for years, but it was a habit so deeply ingrained in Bellamy's mind he had done it without thinking.

Bellamy sat up in his own bed now, feeling waves of disgust and worry flood over him. His gaze landed on his jacket, hanging over the back of his chair. Impulsively, he leaned forward and grabbed it, running the material under his fingers for a moment before bringing it up to his face. Under the faded scent of the party, the sweet scent still lingered.

It made his gut twist. When the elevator doors opened on Sunday and revealed Clarke standing there, it had been sheer coincidence. Bellamy was glad it happened though, despite the terrified look in Clarke's eyes. It gave him an in with her, a way to introduce himself. He felt like he knew her so well already, being the keeper of her darkest secret, but Bellamy was a stranger to her.

He felt such a strong sense of responsibility to her, and perhaps it was misplaced, but Bellamy knew he wasn't going to be able to shake it.

He rolled over in bed, hugging the jacket to his chest. He hoped Clarke was asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Clarke was feeling good in the morning. She had actually gotten several good hours of sleep before it was interrupted by a nightmare. When she woke up, she couldn't remember what it was about, but she didn't want to dwell on it. The unsettling feeling lingered for a few minutes before Clarke managed to fall back asleep, curled in a tight ball around her quilt.

Raven also had a 10 am English course, and although it was Comp, it was in the same building so they could walk together. The morning was brisk and smelled like the last few sweet days of summer. The sun still shone brightly and Clarke found herself enjoying the walk. Raven didn't have much to say but they both seemed content to walk in silence, listening to the birdsong and traffic noises swirling around the sidewalk.

In her English class, Clarke met a girl named Lexa, who seemed friendly. They chatted for a while after class, loitering in the hall. Lexa was going for a business degree with the hope of taking over her father's manufacturing company one day, so their classes had no overlap, except Composition. Even so, Clarke was glad to know she had a friend on Tuesday and Thursday mornings.

Raven and Clarke got lunch and spent a couple of hours in the library, getting started on their thesis papers. Evidently, they had both been assigned the exact same assignment from two different professors. Raven had made an offhand comment about it.

Clarke knew from the moment she walked into Human Physiology that afternoon, it was going to be her favorite class. The professor was an older man with a kind face and the classroom was set up in a semicircle shape. And, there were only 12 students! Clarke had always liked smaller classes and was excited to see how it would play out over the year. The hour and 30 minute class seemed to fly by, and before she knew it, she was being dismissed.

She was feeling light as she walked back to her dorm. Clarke was hardly even nervous about walking by herself across campus, even though the sun was starting to set. She had picked up dinner at a little cafe and ate her hot turkey club as she walked.

_Maybe I just needed a couple of days and now I am back to normal. _Clarke decided.

Raven wasn't home yet, so Clarke had a few moments to herself in the dorm. She didn't do anything with that time, just texted her mom. They had been sharing a few vague texts a day, mostly about how classes were going, but it was always several hours in between Abby's responses. Abby wasn't one to check her phone very often, even with her daughter in college across the country.

Clarke didn't particularly mind. It would be hard to hide her _secret _if her mom was nosy and insisted on calling her every night like Harper's mother did.

Clarke flipped through social media for a few moments before becoming bored and standing up. There was only so many, 'First Week of College, #lovingit' posts one could look at. She was just about to head into the bathroom when the door opened and Raven's laughter spilled into the room.

"I said, '_Ma'am, you can't put the salami back on the shelf with the tampons, it has to be refrigerated.'" _

Clarke froze solid at the sound of that voice.

"Hey, Clarke. I totally forgot to tell you this morning that Finn was stopping over. Hope you don't mind." Raven said, her voice breathy from laughing at Finn's story.

Clarke couldn't reply. She turned and faced the wall. _Breathe!_

"It's okay." She croaked. She wouldn't look at Finn. She couldn't. She had to get out of this room. He was there. _Right there. _His presence was stifling. Clarke couldn't breathe.

"Want to watch that movie you were talking about yesterday?" Finn asked casually, flopping down on Raven's bed.

"Sure. D'you mind Clarke?" Raven asked, pulling out her laptop.

"N-no. I'm going to-" She had to stop and clear her throat, silently praying her voice didn't sound too shaky. "I'm going to work downstairs."

"You can stay! We'll use headphones." Raven insisted.

"It's fine." Clarke whispered. She finally found it within herself to make her legs work and she made a beeline for the door.

"That was weir-" Raven started to say but Clarke was shutting the door behind her. She wanted to slam it shut, but restrained herself. That would probably make Raven come after her, then Fin would follow behind and casually lean in the doorway. He would probably say something along the lines of, "_Whats the matter, Clarke? Has something upset you?" _Even the thought of his words, which were sure to take on a sickly sweet tone, had Clarke shivering.

_What should I do now? _She hadn't even grabbed her backpack. She couldn't go to Harper and Octavia's, they'd know something was up. Harper was simply too sensitive and caring, and Octavia was sure to be curious.

Clarke could hardly even breath right now. She could go sit downstairs, get a coffee… but what if Finn came down? She'd be all alone. She thought about her new friend Lexa. _I don't even know what Hall she's in. _

Clarke started down the stairs, anxious to get off the forth floor. Even the thought of standing on the same floor as Finn make Clarke's toes curl in her shoes, arching away from the contaminated carpeting. Her feet lead her to the only place she had left to go before she thought about it in her head.

_Bellamy's. _

Her hand was shaking as she reached out to knock on the door.

_What if he's not here? What can I do then? Where can I go?_

Clarke felt panic rising in her chest. Her whole body shuddered when she tried to inhale.

After what felt like an eternity, the door opened.

"Clarke?"

"Can I come in?" The words tumbled out of Clarke's mouth. Her hands folded together and she pulled them apart, fidgeting. She pushed into the room before Bellamy replied. Hurriedly, she shoved shut the door and slid the latch into place. She stood facing the door, trying to catch her breath.

The room was dark and smelled sleepy. And like Bellamy.

"Clarke? What is going on?" His voice was thick tinged with concern. Clarke took a deep breath before slowly turning around. Bellamy stood a few feet away in a plain grey tee and basketball shorts. His shades were drawn.

"Did I wake you up? I'm so sorry, I can go. I probably kept you awake last night, I shouldn't have even texted you. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have come, this isn't fair to you, I can't expect you to-." Clarke was talking fast as she reached back for the door latch. Her hands were shaking so bad now she couldn't undo it.

"Woah, woah. Slow down." Bellamy soothed. Light flooded the room as he pulled open the shade. Clarke turned back around, watching him squint into the late afternoon sunlight. He had definitely been asleep. His clothes were wrinkled and his hair had that sleep tousled look. Not that it wasn't usually a curl heap, but it was exceptionally messy now.

"I'm sorry." Clarke said again, pressing her hands flat against her thighs to try and quell their quivering.

"Don't be," Bellamy looked at her with a soft expression that made Clarke swallowed stiffly. "What's going on?"

Clarke hesitated for a moment. "He's here."

* * *

Bellamy gazed at Clarke. "Who's here?"

Clarke's hands flew back to her chest, twisting together. She looked as pale as a sheet and her eyes were as wide as dinner plates. Bellamy wanted to reach out for her and pull her in close. He didn't though. He knew she wouldn't appreciate it, especially in this state.

"Finn." She breathed out the word, glancing down at the floor.

Bellamy didn't quite follow. "Finn?" He asked gently. Clarke's head snapped up, alarmed.

"You don't know. Oh God, I- I can't," she started to stutter.

Bellamy connected the dots. Who was the only person who could do _this_ to Clarke?

"Finn is the one who…" He wouldn't say the word. He _couldn't. _

Clarke nodded faintly.

"Why is he here? Did he come to find you?" Bellamy was anxious now. Was this guy upstairs right now? Was Octavia there?

Clarke wouldn't look up but Bellamy could tell she wanted to say something, only, the words didn't come out.

"Come in here." He said, waving her into the room from where she was still pressed against the door. She took a few tentative steps forward. Bellamy gave her a couple moments to compose herself, turning to make up his bed. He smoothed the comforter into place and folded his extra blanket much slower than necessary, then sat lightly on the edge of the bed.

He gazed out at Clarke just as she looked up and met his eyes. He felt a satisfaction wash through him as she visibly relaxed under his gaze. She took a few quick steps over to Bellamy and he thought she was going to sit beside him on the edge on the bed, but instead, she rigidly sat on the floor, gathering her knees up to her chest. She was just a few inches away from Bellamy's legs, her arms squeezing her legs to her torso so tightly, it seemed as though they were the only things still holding her together.

Bellamy wasn't sure whether to wait for Clarke to say something or to try and initiate the conversation, but before he decided, she spoke up.

"Finn is Raven's boyfriend." She said

"What?" Bellamy couldn't keep the exclamation in.

Clarke nodded. "That's why it's so- I can't say anything…" Clarke broke off, her voice was thick with tears.

Bellamy's heart went out to her as she sat, trembling, on his floor. He again felt the strong urge to hug her, but resisted. He didn't want to make Clarke afraid of him, too. He instead unfolded the blanket and draped it over her. She startled when it fell on her knees, but she nodded a thanks and wrapped it around herself.

"Does he do that to Raven, too?"

"No, at least, it doesn't seem like it." Clarke said a bit stronger, wiping her nose on the inside collar of her shirt. Bellamy looked around regretfully, knowing he didn't have any Kleenex.

"Well, that's something." Bellamy said scornfully. He kept his voice steady, but inside, he was all fire and fiery. _How dare he have the audacity to stroll into Clarke's dorm, knowing full well she would be there. I'm sure he acted as if nothing had even happened. _

"Yeah, but I feel like I should warn her, you know? But Raven…" Clarke paused and sniffed again. "Raven practically worships him. She told me that he was her whole family. '_Her whole world'_, those were the exact words she used."

Bellamy groaned inwardly. This ran far deeper than the surface offense, through layers of friendship and family that Clarke clearly didn't want to disturb, even for her own sanity and well-being. He smiled in a silent awe of her, how strong she was, how much loyalty, however misplaced it might be, she had to Raven, whom she had met not even a week prior. They sat in silence for a moment, Bellamy thinking, Clarke staring blankly.

"Don't you have a roommate?" Clarke asked suddenly. Bellamy followed her gaze to the bare mattress across the room, pulled from his musings.

"No, not right now at least. He dropped out or didn't show or something. Last minute so I never got a new one."

"Hmm. That would be nice." Clarke's voice was wistful.

Bellamy chuckled. "The two across the bathroom are more than enough, though."

"Oh? How so?"

"Well, just this morning Monty asked me if he could grow _herbs_ under the empty bed."

"What? Like weed? I don't believe it."

"I'm not joking! Oh, and Jasper set up a distillery in the shower on the first night he was here. He wanted to make moonshine. Connected the hose right to the shower head, but he's no plumber, so when he turned the valve on, the hose shot off. Water _everywhere._"

Clarke was giggling then. Bellamy grinned. It was the first time he had heard a happy sound come from her mouth. He liked it, but what he liked even more, was that he had been the cause.

"Okay, I can never complain about Harper or Octavia." Clarke said, her voice 100 pounds lighter. Perhaps it was the change in topic, or perhaps it was her company. Bellamy preferred to believe it was the latter.

"Oh, I've lived with Octavia most of my life. I have plenty to complain about." Bellamy countered jovially.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, like the hair. Hair in the shower, hair in the sink, hair all over the floor, hair all over all the laundry. You'd think we had a dog!"

Clarke giggled louder, releasing her knees from her chest and stretching out her legs. "Never come into our bathroom then. All girls shed, it'd be your worst nightmare to have four in one room."

Bellamy made a disgusted noise and Clarke snorted. He beamed. He'd managed to cheer her up in a matter of minutes.

"You're a freshman, aren't you?" Clarke asked.

"Yeah."

"But you and Octavia aren't twins?"

Bellamy could see what she was getting at. He wasn't sure he wanted to get into his personal life. Then he reconsidered. He knew Clarke's deepest, darkest secret, so what was a little bit of family drama?

"No, we're not. I just had to wait to go to college until Octavia graduated high school."

He watched the back of Clarke's head nod. He knew she wanted to know more, but she wasn't going to pry. He decided just to continue anyway. In a weird sort of way, Bellamy felt like she deserved to know.

"My dad skipped out on us right after Octavia was born, and my mom couldn't support us on her own. She started to do some… unsavory work." Bellamy paused, hoping Clarke would grasp the meaning of it. She did.

"She obviously couldn't afford to pay someone to watch us, so we spent a lot of time alone. I had to look after Octavia, A couple of times Mom was arrested and we got bounced around to a few foster homes, but we were never separated, thank God. I started working as soon as I turned twelve, to help us get by. My mom was arrested again, about two years ago. 8 year sentence. Had to write a sob story essay in order to get us both in here on grants, but hey, here we are."

Bellamy hadn't expected it to be so hard to tell Clarke all this. Perhaps he just wasn't practiced in saying it, but he felt his throat turn scratchy.

Then, Clarke did something unexpected; she leaned into his legs, pressing her side into his calf.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all that. Octavia is lucky to have a big brother like you." She said kindly. Bellamy smiled softly down at her.

"Yeah, I'm the lucky one though. I don't know where I'd be today if I wasn't responsible for her life, too."

Clarke didn't have a response to that other than to rest her head on Bellamy's knee. He wanted to reach out and stroke her hair. It looked soft, the golden waves cascading over her shoulders and spilling onto his bare leg. It tickled.

For a moment, Bellamy felt unburdened. It had been so customary for him to carry around the weight of his life, never telling anyone about it. But here was Clarke, even in her own weakened emotional state, to take some of the load. They were bound by a sort of shared mutual suffering and Bellamy felt a connection forge it's way between them. He was sure that Clarke felt it too.

He shifted on the bed, his back was aching from leaning forwards at a weird angle, and Clarke jumped.

"Sorry." He immediately apologized.

"S'all right." Clarke murmured, wrapping Bellamy's blanket tighter around her shoulders to make up for the cold spot where she had been leaning against him.

"Do you want to talk about-"

"No!" Clarke interrupted Bellamy's question before he had finished asking it.

"Okay." Bellamy laid back on his bed, his head pressed up against the wall and his legs hanging off.

Clarke was quiet for a long time.

"Bellamy?" She asked timidly.

"Yeah?" He stared at the ceiling, very aware of her presence.

Clarke paused before seeming to think better of her question she had really wanted to ask, instead saying, "Thank you, for letting me in."

"Of course." Bellamy arched his back and it audibly cracked. Clarke gasped.

"Was that your back?" She cried.

Bellamy chuckled. "Sure was, Princess." He didn't know why he called her that, but as soon as he said it, he grinned.

Clarke's face popped into view and she peered at him from her knees.

"I never knew someone's _spine _couldn't make that sound." Her blue eyes were wide.

"Feels good, too."

Clarke wrinkled her nose. Bellamy propped himself up on an elbow to get a better look at her.

"You can't tell me you've never cracked your back."

Clarke shook her head. "Never."

"Hmm. You should get on that, Princess." Bellamy flopped down, mainly to hide his smile at calling Clarke _Princess. _

"What do you mean by that?" She asked. She didn't sound irritated.

"Mean by what?" Bellamy asked innocently.

He could _hear _Clarke roll her eyes at him.

"Calling me that."

Calling you what?" Bellamy was thoroughly enjoying himself, until Clarke socked him in the leg.

"Oof!" Bellamy exhaled, sitting up and glaring down at Clarke's big eyes.

"_Princess." _Clarke drew out, her nose tipped in the air.

"Don't you like it?" Bellamy teased.

"I wouldn't say that…" Clarke murmured, looking away.

Bellamy felt warm. He looked at Clarke and some dirty, boyish part of his mind joked at him. She was on her knees, in front of him.

_No! _He scolded himself, clearing his throat and adjusting his seat. Clarke glanced up, again startled. He had to stop doing that to her, for both of their sake's. It reminded him too much of when she had woken up while he was carrying her home that night. She had been _terrified, _struggling against him in a panicked daze.

"Bellamy?" Clarke started.

"Mmhm?"

"Do you know if- if he um, if he _drugged me?" _Clarke's voice got quieter with each word, but she spit it all out in a jumble, not wanting the words to touch her tongue.

Bellamy swallowed stiffly before answering. He wasn't going to lie to her, but he didn't know if he could tell her the truth either.

"I uh, don't know for sure. But you were pretty… pretty out of it when I found you."

"_You _found me?" She cried.

"Uh, yes."

"Oh God." She scrunched her body up, either embarrassed or scared, and Bellamy wished he hadn't opened his mouth.

"I mean, I don't remember anything, but I just assumed that…" Her voice was muffled, buried in the blanket.

"Hey, if you're worried about it, it's not like I saw-"

"It's not that." She burst out. Clearly, it was partly that.

"What, then?" Bellamy asked gently, feeling like he was pushing his bounds.

"I didn't want to think about _anyone _seeing me like that. I mean, I don't even remember most of it!" She twisted around, her eyes brimming with unshed tears as her face held a mortified expression.

"Clarke! Hey, now. I don't think of that girl as you. That was… not you." Bellamy struggled to explain what he meant. He truly _didn't _see the parallel between the girl sitting on his dorm floor right now and the unconscious girl in the frat house on Saturday night. That was worlds away, practically a different life as far as he was concerned.

"Doesn't matter. It was still _me. _I put myself in that situation!"

"Don't you think for a minute that what happened was your fault!" Bellamy's voice came out a lot harsher than he expected.

Clarke stiffened.

Bellamy cringed. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, you're right, I suppose." Clarke frowned down at her hands, which were fidgeting in her lap.

"I am right. And don't forget it, Princess." The words seemed as if they should have been spoken harshly, but Bellamy said them gently to Clarke, as reassurance and promise that he was going to make sure that fact was not forgotten.

**AN_**

**Sorry I changed the POV in the middle, but I really didn't want to split this into two separate chapters, but I really wanted the bulk of the conversation to be from Bellamy's POV.**

**Thank you for taking the time to read my story, and I sincerely hope you enjoy it. Thanks, and have a happy, healthy rest of your day/week/month/year/life!**

**-Birch66724**


	10. Chapter 10

Clarke stayed with Bellamy until her eyes were starting to droop. She yawned fiercely before standing stiffly from the floor. She hadn't moved from her spot the entire time. The floor felt like a safe, comfortable spot, although her spine didn't agree. She tried to knead out the kink forming in the small of her back.

"Ready to go?" Bellamy had caught Clarke's contagious yawn. She watched his mouth stretch wide and his eyes squeeze close.

"Yeah." Clarke looked away and folded up Bellamy's blanket which hadn't moved from her shoulders.

"I'll come upstairs with you, to see if he's still there." Bellamy rose from the bed. Clarke flashed him a grateful look at his offer. She had been fearing returning to her dorm, afraid she'd open the door to Finn's terrible face grinning out at her.

Clarke hesitated a moment when Bellamy held the door open for her. What if someone saw her coming out of a boy's dorm? Surely they would be reprimanded if it was someone who worked for the U of M, but even if it was just another student, Clarke didn't want anyone to get _that _impression of her.

Bellamy gave a moment of pause before he seemed to understand Clarke's worry. He went into the hall first, looked down it in each direction.

"Coast is clear." He said with amusement. Clarke huffed and rolled her eyes, leaving the safe haven that was Bellamy's dorm. Unwrapped from the fuzzy blanket, her arms felt bare and cold as the hairs pricked up in goosebumps in the air conditioned hallway. Clarke crossed them over her chest and looked at her feet as she walked. Bellamy pressed the up button and the elevator opened immediately.

Clarke felt a brief flash of dread at the elevator and wanted to take the stairs instead, but Bellamy was already inside and had pressed the 4 button. She scurried in.

"You don't like the elevator?" He questioned as Clarke shuddered when the door slid shut with a clunk.

"No." Clarke muttered, scuffing the floor.

"Why didn't you say so?"

Clarke shrugged, not looking up at him.

"Hmm, if only there was another way to get upstairs. Maybe there's a ladder somewhere, or what are those things called? Upstairs… oh! Stairs, that's it. We could have taken the _stairs." _Bellamy goaded Clarke, his voice thick with amusement.

"Shut up!" Clarke tried to pretend she was angry with him, but her grin slid through her poorly constructed mask.

Bellamy laughed and Clarke socked him in the arm.

"You just like to hit me!"

"If the punishment fits the crime." She retorted.

"Bellamy?"

Clarke hadn't even noticed the elevator door had opened.

"Hey, O! I was just coming to see you." Bellamy lied smoothly, stepping over the elevator threshold.

"You could have texted first." Octavia muttered, turning her attention to Clarke. "Where've you been?"

"Uh, I just met Bellamy in the elevator." Clarke said, flustered.

Octavia frowned.

"You were just sitting downstairs, weren't you?" Bellamy looked intently into Clarke's eyes.

"Y-yes. I was just- working on some homework." Clarke stumbled over her words, going along with Bellamy's lies.

"Oh." Octavia's face was set into deep lines; A mixture or confusion and curiosity and distrust. Clarke took a guess and figured that Octavia could see no schoolwork on Clarke. Not a backpack or a laptop or even a notebook. Clarke swallowed.

"Where were you headed out to?" Bellamy asked his sister, changing the subject.

"To look for Clarke." She told Bellamy irritably, then turned to Clarke. "Raven told me that you left all in a rush like something was wrong."

"No, I just wanted to give her and-" Clarke couldn't bring herself to say his name. "-her boyfriend some time."

"Okay. Well, I'm going to go to bed then." Octavia turned and led the way down the hall. Bellamy looked reassuringly at Clarke. She tried to make her face expressionless, but she was struggling to breathe.

Octavia shut her dorm room door behind her with a click, either having forgotten that Bellamy had said he wanted to speak with her, or she didn't care to listen.

Clarke turned on Bellamy with an anxious gaze.

"You don't need to lie for me." She bit out.

"But I-"

"No! It's not- right. And I don't think it's fair to ask you to lie to your own sister! Especially for my sake." Clarke felt pressure building inside of her head, pressing on the backs of her eyes, plugging her nose, making her throat thick.

"Clarke, don't say that." Bellamy murmured.

"No, it's not right." She said stubbornly.

"If it's what needs to be done, to, to _protect _you, then it is right."

Clarke tried to stifle her glare. Bellamy only wanted to help, she knew that, but it was rubbing her the wrong way in her heightened emotional state.

"I can take care of myself, but thanks for your offer." Clarke wanted her voice to sound strong and confident, but the words were barely a whisper. She turned and let herself into the dorm and shut the door behind her, leaving Bellamy in the hall with a dejected look on his face.

"Is that you, Clarke?" Raven's voice asked over the sound of music.

Clarke felt like she could scream. Everywhere she turned there was _someone. _Never could she just be _alone. _

"Hey, I'm sorry I didn't give you a heads up about Finn, but you don't have to leave when he comes over, you can hang out here." Raven prattled on, unaware of Clarke's ashen face in the doorway.

Clarke rushed into the bathroom and the door shut harshly behind her. Raven's voice cut out. Everything was too much right now and she couldn't breathe. The air couldn't fit through her throat and her eyes swum with unshed tears. Panis was rising in her chest as the need for air grew and grew.

"Clarke?" Raven asked, concerned from right outside the door. Clarke gripped the edge of the sink with both hands, shaking like a leaf. She struggled against an onslaught of dizziness as her stomach wrenched and twisted, and suddenly she was vomiting into the sink.

Clarke slumped against the counter, finally overcome, barely registering Raven's panicked voice and the rattling bathroom door. Her throat burned as she continued to heave, bringing up nothing but acidic bile.

She pulled her eyes up and met her own gaze in the mirror, not recognizing the pale skin, dark rimmed sunken eyes, and sallow cheeks. Her reflection looked nothing like the girl she remembered herself to be. Her gaze slid away as her vision fuzzed around the edges, her head throbbing as abstract shapes and pinpoints of light flitted. Her hands loosening from the sink was the last thing Clarke was aware of.

A few moments later, the cool floor tile was pressed against Clarke's cheek, bringing her around to the waking world again. There was a hand on her shoulder and several facing peering down at her, though Clarke couldn't identify them. She tried to struggle away from them, as they lomed closer. The first sound she heard was a strangled cry that escaped her own throat and she tried the writhe away from the hand which was pushing her against the floor.

"Clarke!"

"Calm down!"

"What's going on with her?"

Clarke felt her head being pulled from the floor and she made one more attempt to get away, swinging her arm out wildly, connecting weakly with the body of her adversary.

"Dammit, Clarke." She slumped against this person's body, her eyes sliding closed as arms wrapped around her, cradling her head and smoothing her hair back from her sweat streaked brow.. The hands were thin, feminine, as was the accompanying voice which gradually became clearer in Clarke's ear.

"Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well, huh? I would have kicked Finn out in a second, and you could have laid down and taken a nap. I could have gotten you a bucket and then we wouldn't have had to clean this bathroom." Raven's voice was dry.

"Should I get Bellamy? He was just with her, in the elevator. She seemed fine then." Octavia's voice was a bit farther away, more disgruntled than it was helpful.

"Maybe. I don't think I'll be able to lift her up off this floor, especially if she keeps fighting me."

"Should we call 911? Did she like, have a seizure?" At the suggestion from Harper, Clarke began struggling to open her eyes and sit up again.

"Hey, shh. Take it easy, Griffin." Raven tightened her arms around Clarke, stopping her vain attempts at rising to her feet.

"M'fine." Clarke slurred, blinking blearily. She'd never noticed how bright the light fixture above the sink was. The twin light bulbs showed down with a vengeance, seering Clarke's eyes until she closed them again, resting her head on Raven's shoulder.

"You're _not_ fine." Harper said matter-of-factly. Clarke felt her gentle fingers on her face, brushing away the hair which was stuck to her dry lips.

"Don't call… the police." Clarke said, trying to make her voice sound normal.

"I wouldn't be calling the police, I'd call the _ambulance." _Harper clarified.

Clarke protested that, too. "No. I'm okay." She blinked her eyes open, seeing double.

"Where is she?" A harsher voice said loudly and suddenly a pair of Bellamys appeared, swimming before Clarke. She felt her heart sink and her stomach filled with dread. Just moments ago she'd shut the door in his face, claiming she didn't need his help. And he was already back.

"She's in the bathroom, I already told you that." Octavia sounded irritable as she followed her brother into her dorm, standing with her hands on her hips and a brow raised, watching Bellamy crouch beside Clarke's crumpled form.

"Hey." He said gently. Raven shifted underneath Clarke, pushing her upright, into Bellamy's waiting hands. "Let's get you into bed, huh?" He said, scooping Clarke to his chest. As much as Clarke had been determined, just a few moments ago, that she didn't need him hovering about her, looking out for her, she didn't resist his warm embrace.

Clarke's head spun at the movement of being lifted and she clamped her eyes shut, trying to contain the slight whimper that rose in her throat as blood pulsed mercilessly against her temples. She felt as if her brain was blowing up like a balloon that was too big for the confines of her skull.

"Sorry, Princess." Bellamy murmured, wrapping one hand tighter around Clarke's shoulders and securing the other beneath her knees. She buried her face into his shoulder as the world spun.

"Here." Raven pulled back Clarke's sheets and Bellamy settled her gently into bed. In the absence of Bellamy's warm arms, she shivered and was promptly covered up, the quilt tucked up to her neck and smoothed down around her supine form.

"I'm sorry." She tried to say, but was interrupted by Harper shushing her.

"Don't worry about it, we all get sick sometimes. Hopefully it's just one of those 24-hour flu bugs and you'll be good to go by this time tomorrow." She said kindly.

Clarke was glad that was all the farther Harper was thinking into it. That she had simply caught a virus, an illness that must be endured for a few hours and then put behind you as nothing more than a slight inconvenience.

"Why'd you throw up in the sink instead of the toilet, Clarke!?" Octavia's disgusted voice called from the bathroom and Clarke blinked her eyes open again.

"She couldn't help it!" Harper defended Clarke and Clarke faintly smiled. Bellamy was hovering at her bedside, the only one to witness the expression. Raven was frowning at Octavia who was scowling at the state of the bathroom.

"I'll clean it up." Clarke said, her voice sounding stronger now.

"You will not!" Harper said crossly. "Look, you've made her feel bad now, Octavia."

"She should feel bad. There is vomit in my hairbrush! All in between the bristles."

"I'll get you a new one." Clarke croaked to Octavia, trying to push herself into a sitting position, but her head started to spin. Bellamy was quick to fix a pillow behind her back.

"There." He said,

"Thanks. I'm sorry, Bellamy." Clarke said quietly so no one else in the room would hear. He would know she was talking about more than just having to lift her from the bathroom tile.

"Don't worry about it." Clarke looked up into his earnest brown eyes and only felt more guilty about what she'd said to him.

"I really don't know where I'd be without you."

"Probably still laying on the bathroom floor," He said with a smirk and a shrug. Clarke rolled her eyes and relaxed into the pillow.

Octavia sprayed half a bottle of perfume and Raven opened up the windows. The cool night air was refreshing as it flowed in through the screen and washed over Clarke's face. Harper ordered everyone out so Clarke could rest and the three girls started to clean the bathroom. Bellamy lingered a moment more before leaving, giving Clarke a warm look from the doorway.

Clarke was able to fall asleep quickly that night, and she was grateful for that, as well as her friends. How many people did she know that would clean her vomit up off the sink?

And she'd only known them for a couple of weeks.

**AN_**

**Aww. Do you just love Bellamy or do you just love Bellamy. :) How about the dynamic of these roommates? Lifelong friends in the making I think.**

**This chapter is a little bit...sad, but I just wanted to show where Clarke is at this point. Poor baby. Things do look up from here for her though.**

**A huge thank you to everyone who has left me review, you are all precious angels. They truly do make my day and are fantastic motivation. Also I appreciate every favorite / follow to let me know people are interested in reading this story. Thank you so much. :)**

**As always, thanks for reading and stay safe and healthy.**

**-Birch66724**


	11. Chapter 11

The following morning, Clarke awoke to darkness in the room. She picked up her phone off the nightstand, someone must have plugged it in for her, to check the time.

6:13

There was also a message from Bellamy.

_B: I hope you sleep well tonight Princess. And that you feel better in the morning._

Clarke felt warmed by the kind message. She put her phone down, not wanting to respond and wake Bellamy up, and pulled her covers back. The room was cool, as the window had remained open all night, and it smelled faintly of Octavia's perfume and bleach.

Clarke shut the window and quietly gathered an outfit for the day before going into the bathroom and getting in the shower. She shuddered to think of the state she was in last night, but thrust it from her mind with a shake of her head. She didn't want to think about they way she had felt, the panic rising in her throat. Never in her life had Clarke had a panic attack, but she thought that was what it must be like. It seemed odd to her that it would happen after she got back to her dorm; Finn wasn't even there anymore.

She let the hot water cascade down her face and thought about what she could do to thank her roommates for last night. And Bellamy.

_Well, I have to buy Octavia a new brush… _

Clarke blanked on what she could do for the others. As far as she knew, she hadn't ruined anything of Raven's or Harper's, so she'd have to think of something original.

The thought dawned on her then, as she scrubbed her scalp with sweet smelling shampoo. Clarke had always had a sort of knack for baking, having to fill her alone time in the house with something, and she knew that the Hall had a kitchen in the basement that students were allowed to use.

Clarke smiled as she toweled off, happy to have settled on something.

"Are you feeling better?" Harper asked when Clarke let her into the bathroom, toothbrush in her mouth.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Harper looked skeptical, placing a hand on Clarke's forehead. "I don't think you have a fever."

"Nope. I'm right as rain."

Harper cringed at the expression. "My uncle used to say that."

"I'm sure he was as right as rain, then."

"He was admitted to a mental hospital." Harper said sourly.

"Oh, well, that's not great."

"He was as cucky as they come though. It was really the best thing for him." Harper said, ever the optimist.

"Happy ending after all then." Clarke spit out the toothpaste and rinsed her mouth.

"I s'pose." Harper started to brush out her long blond hair.

"Thanks for last night, Harper. Sorry I made you guys deal with that."

"No problem." Harper paused and her lip between her teeth, concentrating as she wound her hair up into an effortless bun. "We all get sick sometimes." She secured her hair with a ponytail. "And you'd do the same for any of us." She gave a satisfied smile as she examined her handiwork, then turned her grin on Clarke.

"Of course." Clarke replied.

"Now get outta here, I've got to pee." Clarke rolled her eyes good-naturedly, glad for Harper not pressing her further on the subject of her sudden onset of illness.

Clarke decided it was the culmination of all of her worry and dread and fear, building and building inside of her until it all spilled out in an uncontrollable, involuntary way. It was the climax of sorts of her recovery from her incident, and now she was ready to put in all behind, thinking the road would be mostly smooth from here.

With that attitude, Clarke finished getting ready and left the dorm before Raven even woke up.

Thursday's were Clarke's easy days, with only one afternoon class. She started off at the dining hall and ate a large breakfast, refilling her stomach from what it had emptied itself from last night. Then she moved to the quiet level of the library and started work on some preliminary class assignments, as well as looked up a cake recipe and wrote out a shopping list.

After an uneventful class, Clarke set out on foot to the nearest Target. It was less than a mile away, and Clarke had never minded walking. It gave her lungs some clear air and her mind some scope.

The afternoon was warm, despite the cool night it had blossomed from, but summer was winding down. School was already back in session, the month had changed to September, and fall was firmly on her way. Clarke liked fall. In Oregon, they had spectacular displays of orange and red and yellow leaves changing colors, a perennial painting that settled over the hills and valleys as if it was always meant to be there, though it lasted no more than a few weeks.

When she was younger, Clarke always remembered her father taking her on camping trips and nature hikes in the fall, collecting leaves and pressing them between pages of books and parchment paper. They'd created entire collages from nothing more than those flaky leaves.

Clarke smiled at the memory of her father. She had often wondered if he'd be proud of her now, seeing where she was in life. She missed him. He'd always been the parent she'd turned to when she needed help or reassurance or love, and after he was gone Abby had only thrown herself more deeply into her work. Clarke had been left with a void that was still today making its vastness known. It felt similar in a way to how she felt now, although the situations that caused the emptiness were so dissimilar, and it gave Clarke hope, but also dread.

The void of her father's passing had slowly shrunk with time, the distance between the two sheer sides of the wound slowly moving closer together. The crevice remained though, and Clarke could still be caught up in it. She wondered if this incident would be the same way, shrinking to a crack she could step over, but when she was tired and her feet drug, would she stumble down it again?

Clarke dispelled the thoughts as she arrived at her destination. She hadn't been shopping since moving in the Frontier Hall, and there were some things she needed for herself, in addition to the ingredients she was purchasing for her thank you cake.

Clarke got a cart and started around the store, crossing off all the items on her list and then some. Target sucked her in the way it did everyone, and was there for God knows how long before she pulled herself out of the trance. It was past 8 o'clock. Clarke made an exasperated noise to herself and pushed her full cart to the checkout counter.

After she gathered up her numerous bags, her arms straining, she turned towards the exit, only to pause in her tracks.

An oppressive wall of black stood outside the doors. Clarke felt her throat tighten and she took a step backwards. She couldn't go out into _that_. The inky blackness that could hide all sorts of things, serving as cover for things lurking, meaning to cause harm.

Clarke stumbled towards a bench by the doors, sitting on the far end and stacking her purchases beside her, her eyes never leaving the darkness that loomed beyond the glass doors. The panic was rising in her throat. She tried to push it down, to bring back all of the good feelings and thoughts she had had during the day, but it only made her groan in frustration. She had had a good day, a great day even, only for darkness to fall and render back to the quivering, terrified girl she had been most of the week.

Stranded in the Target entrance, Clarke was momentarily lost on what to do and her stressed mind tried to make plans for her to sleep on that bench, to go buy a toothbrush and brush her teeth in the Target bathroom, to curl up on the corrugated red metal until the sun rose and lit the way back to her dorm.

After a few deep breaths, and a firm scolding of herself, Clarke came around to her senses. She could call an Uber, they could pick her up right at the front door. That would work. But as she opened the app, all she could imagine was getting into a car, with a man, alone. Just him and her. Nothing to stop him from…

_Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!_

She could call Raven. Raven would come and walk home with her. But what if Raven was with Finn? What if she brought him along and she had to walk with him, in the darkness?

That wouldn't work. Clarke knew that Harper had some kind of Christian club on Thursday nights, so she was out, and Clarke honestly didn't think Octavia would make her feel any more secure than walking by herself.

And that left one single option, glowing like a fire in the dark expanse of the night. Clarke swallowed.

"Hey, Clarke!" He answered on the second ring, before Clarke's panic had a chance to rise any higher in her throat.

"Bellamy." She exhaled, relieved at the sound of his voice.

"What's up? Is something wrong?" He sounded concerned.

"No! No, not exactly." She said quickly, pausing. Bellamy waited for her to continue. She could hear him breathing on the other end of the line.

"I just uh, came out to Target, and you know how it goes, I spent way too much time, and money, here." Clarke paused and took a deep breath. "And now it's dark and I walked here and I don't think I can walk home alone." She said in a rush, staring at the doors. They reflected her scared face back to her like a mirror.

She listened as Bellamy exhaled and gave a soft chuckled.

"So, you're not in any danger?"

"Not any immediate danger." Clarke said.

"So, what do you want me to do?" Bellamy asked slyly. Clarke could see the smug look on his face in her head. Now that he'd ascertained that she was simply sitting in a Target entryway, he was going to have a little fun with her.

"I was thinking that maybe, you could…" Clarke trailed off, feeling silly.

"I could…?" Bellamy pressed, wanting to hear her make the request. They both knew he would agree to it, but Bellamy wanted the satisfaction of hearing Clarke ask him for help.

"Maybe you could come and walk me home?" Clarke cringed as she asked, blushing like a schoolgirl.

"Ah, I see! The Princess needs her knight in shining armor to escort her." Clarke could hear the smile in his voice.

"Yeah, yeah." Clarke rolled her eyes.

"Absolutely, m'lady. Be there in 10."

Clarke clicked off her phone and settled it in her lap, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

**An_**

**Here's another chapter for you! Sorry it's a bit on the shorter side. Also, I meant to post this 2 days ago, but life has been crazy lately, for everyone I'm sure. I ****sincerely**** hope you are all doing well and staying healthy and safe.**

**Also, I am considering searching for a beta reader for this story. I want it to be as good as it possible can be, so if you are interested, or have any ****recommendations****, send them my way please!**

**As always, thanks for reading and let me know your thoughts.**

**-Birch66724**


	12. Chapter 12

Bellamy stood up from his desk and cracked his neck loudly. It reminded him of how Clarke had been amazed, or maybe disgusted?, when he had cracked his back in front of her.

He stretched his arms above his head, muscles stiff from the past few hours spent in the straight-backed library chair. He'd escaped Jasper and Monty for the afternoon because they were drilling holes in the walls so they could hang up hammocks. The noise of their decrepit Black and Decker power drill on the drywall was so loud, he swore it rattled his teeth inside his head.

"Hey."

Bellamy looked up to meet a girl's eyes. She was leaning on her hands on the edge of his table, her chest pressed together by her arms.

"Hey." Bellamy repeated, quickly averting his eyes and pushing back his chair.

"Are you in English 111, with Mrs. Nielsen?"

"Uh, yeah." Bellamy still didn't look up at her. He knew what she was doing, and he couldn't say it was the first time it had happened to him, but Bellamy wasn't exactly privy to the idea.

"Did you get the first assignment?"

"To write a paragraph introducing yourself?" Bellamy asked skeptically, sliding his notebook and laptop into his backpack.

"Yeah…" The girl said, standing up to her full height and flipping her hair over her shoulder. She was rather tall, and thin, with long dark brown hair and a lot of eye makeup.

"It wasn't that bad. I've gotta go, but she posted a full description of the assignment in the class folder." He said, slinging his bag over his shoulder and sidestepping her. She looked sort of hurt and Bellamy felt a twinge of guilt, but not enough to turn around when she called out after him;

"Nice to meet you! See you in class on Friday!"

Bellamy took a deep breath of the night air as the door shut behind him. It was cool and crisp and cleared his head. Bellamy knew he was attractive, and he knew he could have a sort of effect on some girls. It was never something he used to his advantage, mainly because there hadn't been much time in his life to have many girlfriends, but also because the type of girl who would come up to him, all confidence and swagger, wasn't his type.

He smiled to himself then, thinking of Clarke's adorably embarrassed voice over the phone. Not that he was at all romantically interested in Clarke... It was probably just her _situation _that made her so reserved and shy, now that he thought about it….

Bellamy rounded the corner and saw the bright red sign of the store. He quickened his step, not wanting Clarke to be sitting there alone, worrying any longer than she had to.

"Bellamy!" He heard Clarke as soon as he stepped through the automatic sliding doors. Clarke popped off of the bench she was sitting on and hurried over to meet him halfway across the entrance.

"Hey there, Princess." Bellamy said smoothly.

"Hi. Thanks so much for coming. I'm so sorry. I just, I lost track of the time and then I found this weird cocoa powder and then it was dark outside and then…" Clarke started in a rush then trailed off, one hand on her hip, the other rubbing her forehead.

"Don't worry about it. I haven't gotten my ten-thousand steps yet today anyhow." Bellamy joked, pleased to see a wry grin on Clarke's face.

She walked back over the bench she had been sitting on and starting to gather up her bags.

"Stocking up for winter?" Bellamy questioned as Clarke struggled to fit all of the bag handles onto her hands.

"No… I was uh, just going to make a-." She stopped abruptly. "You can't look at any of this!"

Bellamy cocked a brow, now curious.

"Okay… You know what? I might as well tell you, but it's going to ruin your surprise."

"Surprise? For me?" Bellamy said alluringly.

"Mm hmm, yes, you. And Octavia and Raven and Harper. I felt bad about the… scene I made… in the bathroom, so I decided to bake you all a cake to thank you." Clarke explained, hefting up the bags.

"Ooh, I like cake." Bellamy winked at Clarke without knowing why. He shifted his weight and he swore he saw Clarke blush behind her thick blond hair.

"Yeah, cake's good." She nodded.

"Let me take some of those." Bellamy offered, leaning down. Clarke gratefully offloaded some of the weight.

"Thanks."

"Of course, Princess. If anyone asks, you can just say you needed my help carrying all of this."

Clarke nodded, facing the door. Bellamy watched her emotion play over her face in the reflection of the dark glass; apprehension and worry and fear.

"Ready?" He asked gently and Clarke nodded softly. Bellamy didn't know Clarke's exact reasoning behind her sudden fear of the dark, but it obviously stemmed from the common branch.

They walked through the sliding door into the night. Clarke walked slowly, but once they were onto the sidewalk in front of the store, her pace quickened until they were clipping along. Neither of them spoke for a couple minutes.

Clarke's back was rigid and she glanced about as if she was waiting for something to jump out at her from the shadows.

Bellamy wanted to try to ease some of her tension.

"What kind of cake are you making?" He started.

"What?"

Bellamy was about to repeat his question before Clarke started talking again.

"Sorry, I heard you, I'm just- Anyway, German Chocolate. I know some people don't like coconut, but you can always eat around the frosting."

"German Chocolate is my favorite." Bellamy said.

"Really?" Clarke questioned, looking up at him for the first time.

"Yep." Bellamy said breezily. He had never had German Chocolate cake once in his life.

"I think I'm going to make it tomorrow night." Clarke said. Bellamy swore he could hear her hinting at something, so he jumped in and said;

"I'll be there."

Clarke looked curiously up at him. Had he misjudged the inflection of her voice? "You much of a baker, Blake?"

"Absolutely." Bellamy lied through his teeth again, pleased to see Clarke's shoulders relax.

"Alright."

They walked on, turning the corner back onto campus.

"I think you'd better get one of those little carts to bring with you next time."

"The ones that old ladies bring to bingo?"

"Exactly!" Bellamy agreed, rolling his shoulders. Clarke's laughter was bright.

"Then I'd have to start going to Wednesday night bingo, and Thursday knitting circle, and then visit the grand kids on Saturday. And Sunday morning church, oh! And breakfast afterwards with the church ladies!" Clarke chirped.

"And don't forget to ask for your senior discount at the restaurant." Bellamy exclaimed and they both laughed. Clarke trailed off, shaking her head with a small smile. Her face was shadowed as they walked out from under a circle of light from a streetlamp. Their black shadows stretched long in front of them on the uneven sidewalk, bobbing along as the walked.

They continued quietly for a bit. Bellamy didn't have anything to say really, and Clarke seemed comfortable in silence, until a pair of boys turned the corner in front of them, headed towards them. They were laughing loudly, each holding a blue can of Bud Light.

Bellamy heard Clarke suck in a breath and stiffen.

"It's okay." He murmured, taking a slight step in front of her, her Target bags brushing against the backs of his thighs. He kept his eyes on the two guys as he continued walking. Clarke pressed herself to him. Bellamy felt her faint breath on his back.

One of the guys gave a curious look at Bellamy. He returned it with a tight smile and a nod and they passed without question, still in boisterous conversation about some pickup truck that one of their uncles had wrapped around a tree then turned into a demo car.

"It was the sickest damn thing I'd ever seen! The bed bent around at a like, 100 degree angle, or whatever the square one is." The first guy was talking with his hands as he passed by.

Bellamy stepped away from Clarke a few seconds after their voices had faded slightly. Her head was craned around, watching them with distrust and worry.

"Why are they drunk already, it's like," Clarke frowned and asked without moving her gaze. "What time even is it?"

"Uh, 9:30." Bellamy checked his phone.

"What?" Clarke sounded shocked.

"Mm hmm. Actually it's 9:32, but close enough."

"Oh God, when did it get so late?" Clarke started muttering, finally dragging her eyes away and fumbling for her phone which was in her back pocket. Her hands were hindered by her bags and she was breathing roughly.

"Woah, take it easy, Clarke," Bellamy tried to soothe. She looked up at him with scared eyes. They reflected silver in the yellow streetlight.

"No, no. I told Raven I should be home before 8! She must be wondering where I am, what if-what if they come looking for me? What if she asks- _him _to help!" Clarke finally freed her phone and clicked it awake, the blue-white light beaming out of it.

"See! She texted me three, no! Four times!" The bag handles slid to Clarke's elbows as she held her phone with both hands. Bellamy could see the angry red lines they were impressing on her pale skin even in the dim light.

"Clarke! Relax." He reached out and lowered her hands. She startled at his touch, but she quickly focused on Bellamy's face with wide eyes.

"Raven just cares. Text her that you'll be home in ten. No one is going to come looking for you, and even if they did, you'd be fine."

Clarke resisted his words, maintaining her rigid posture for another long moment before nodding. "Okay, okay yeah, you're right, I'm crazy." She gave a strangled chuckle and Bellamy's brow knit together.

"I'm actually going insane." Clarke reiterated, tucking her phone back into her pocket without texting Raven and started to pace. "Ever since this, this _thing, _I haven't been able to think straight. Think _at all_! I think something got messed up in my head. I can't seem to be reasonable. I _know _I'm being crazy. Irrational! Stupid! But I don't even know. I had such a great day today, and now..." She stopped suddenly, eyes transfixed on a weed growing from a crack in the sidewalk.

Bellamy broke inside again, his chest twisting at the sight of her, so confused and broken.

"Clarke."

Her head snapped up, as if his voice was going to be the answer to all of her problems, but before she was ready to have her questions solved, she had more to say.

"It's not fair, what I'm doing to you. I can't confide all of this to you." She started to pace again. "This isn't your responsibility, I'm sorry I called you. Again. But I really do appreciate you, I do, but you can't drop everything you're doing to help me. I'm actually insane right now. I always thought I was so level headed, but here I am, flying off the rails. I-"

"Clarke!" Bellamy interrupted her before she could go on. He couldn't stand her saying the things she was. "Don't say that. You're not crazy." Bellamy said exasperated, then inhaled sharply and repeated himself. "You're _not _crazy. You're- you're _strong _and _brave _and independent and resilient. In fact, I don't know how you're coping as well as you are. You're still standing. Hell, getting yourself out of bed would be an accomplishment, but you're taking care of yourself and going to classes and _baking a Goddamned cake!"_

Bellamy stopped talking as soon as he saw the tears glistening on Clarke's face. Perhaps he was being too harsh. He wasn't exactly speaking in a comforting tone…

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that, I meant…" Bellamy trailed off as Clarke stepped to his side and pressed herself against his chest. Her warm breath came through his thin t-shirt in gentle puffs. He could feel her tears, wet on his skin. Her shoulders shook once.

Bellamy didn't know what to do. He wanted so desperately to wrap his arms around Clarke, to gather her up and hug her to his chest. He wanted to bury his face in her hair and stroke her back.

But he didn't. He followed her lead and stood there, letting her cry into him. He clutched the handle of the plastic bags and comforted Clarke without touching her. She didn't wrap her arms around his chest. Bellamy hoped it was because she too was holding her groceries, and not because she didn't want to.

"I'm sorry. So sorry." Clarke murmured, pressing the crown of her head to Bellamy and staring at the ground.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I never liked this shirt anyways."

Bellamy heard Clarke's little sniffle of laughter and knew she was going to be alright, and he was going to be by her side every step of the way.

**AN_**

**I promised things were going to get better for Clarke, and they are, but the road of healing is a bumpy one and she's still navigating it. I hope no one is getting bored/irritated at this point, but I am just writing what I feel. Anyway, that was kind of a rant, my apologies, just wanted to say that. **

**Do you have any guesses as to who that girl in library is? I would love to hear what you think and if anyone is able to figure it out. **

**I hope everyone had a happy, healthy Easter weekend! (If you celebrate, if not, I hope you still had a great weekend!) It wasn't the same as it usually is for me, as we couldn't go see any extended family which was a real bummer, but it's what's best to keep everyone safe. **

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Birch66724**


	13. Chapter 13

Clarke kept her eyes trained on the ground as Bellamy held the door for her. The lights in the lobby of Frontier Hall were stark and revealing, and Clarke didn't want anyone to see her tear streaked face.

"Elevator or stairs?" Bellamy asked.

"Elevator," Clarke replied. Although she didn't think she could ever step into that box by herself, Bellamy's presence was comforting. Clarke stepped closer to him as the doors slid shut behind them. Thankfully, no one else was on board.

"Do you want to keep this stuff in my room, so Raven doesn't see it?" Bellamy asked, gesturing with his bag.

Clarke hadn't thought about that. "Oh, good point. That would be great."

" 'Course, Princess," Bellamy said. Clarke glanced up, but her eyes never made it to his smiling face. They got stuck on the wet splotches she'd made on his t-shirt. Heat rose to her cheeks and she scuffled her shoes on the worn carpet. Clarke was endlessly embarrassed at her breakdown on the sidewalk, and at Bellamy's words, though they were comforting and did make her feel better, felt like a taunt of everything she wanted to be, but was falling short of the mark.

The elevator opened on the third floor and they walked down the hall towards Bellamy's door. Clarke could hear comotion behind the door before Bellamy even opened it.

"I swear to God if my bed is covered in dirt again…" He growled under his breath as he shoved open the door.

"Again?" Clarke felt her mouth quirk.

"These two are insane."

An odd white light beamed out into the hall, illuminating Clarke's legs.

"Oh, Bellamy. Hey." Bellamy flicked on the lightswitch and narrowed his eyes.

"Why are you over here, Monty?" Bellamy questioned coldly.

"We're just working on a, uh, project."

Bellamy grumbled and walked into the room. Clarke peaked around the frame to see a boy standing there, looking slightly guilty. He was wearing a dark green shirt with jeans and fiddling with some kind of device in his hands. His black hair shone in the white light and his skin was olive-toned.

"Alright, where's the other one at?" Bellamy asked, setting the Target bags down heavily on the desk. He looked like a Dad, with one brow raised in question and a slight look of disappointment on his face.

"Oh! You've got company," Monty said, avoiding the question and smiling at Clarke.

"Hi." Clarke said softly, placing her bags beside the other ones and quickly wiping her eyes.

"I'd better leave you two, then." Monty made for the door. Bellamy blocked his path.

"This is Clarke." Bellamy looked up at her, then back at Monty, "And we're friends." He said firmly, eyeing Monty testily.

"Of course." Monty stepped back from Bellamy, who towered over him and extended a hand to her. "Nice to meet you, Clarke. I'm Monty Green." Clarke took his offered hand and gave it a shake. When finished with their greeting, he tapped on the device in his other hand and the white light clicked off, it's source yet unknown.

Monty stepped back, pursing his lips and rocking on his heels.

"Still, I'd better get going anyways." He nodded towards the door.

"Where's Jasper?"

"He's not here,"

"Yes, he is," Bellamy insisted. "Tell me where, Monty." Clarke traced the room with her eyes, seeing nowhere a teenaged boy could be hiding, unless he was exceptionally small? Clarke had never met Jasper before, but she could only assume he was a regularly sized person.

Bellamy continued to pepper Monty with a stream of questions as Clarke sorted her groceries, her personal things in one bag and the ingredients for her planned cake in another couple. She moved to set the bags out of Bellamy's way, on the floor by the spare bed, when she noticed that both of the drawers under the mattress were cracked open.

Clarke nudged one closed with her foot, only for it to be met with resistance. She kicked on it harder, and it made a noise.

"Aarge!"

Clarke gasped and stumbled back.

"Clarke?" Bellamy asked, breaking off his harsh words to Monty and steadying Clarke with a hand on each of her shoulders. Even though she knew it was just Bellamy, Clarke still jumped at the touch and Bellamy released her immediately.

"What's wrong?" He asked. Clarke nodded towards the bed. One of the drawers shifted. A door shut behind them.

"Monty!" Bellamy growled, but didn't pursue the boy. Instead he stepped in front of Clarke and pulled out one of the drawers.

"Shit." A voice echoed from within the wooden frame. A plume of dust caught in the light as Bellamy dragged a squirming boy out from under the bed. Clarke pressed herself back against Bellamy's bed, bumping her knees against the edge. She sat down lightly, wide-eyed and shocked.

"Jasper, what in the hell?" Bellamy was truly mad in a way that Clarke hadn't seen before. He glared daggers at the younger boy, gripping his shoulders with white knuckles.

"I uh, you know what Monty said, about the uh, the experiment?" Jasper's voice rose on the last few syllables as he made a fleeting gesture towards the closed bathroom door.

"Save the bullshit." Bellamy growled, roughly shoving Jasper towards the door. Jasper scrambled for the knob, only to find it locked from the inside. Clarke looked at his odd getup, faintly amused underneath her shock. He had on black jeans and a baggy zip up, along with a medical looking mask and ski goggles. He looked like a child playing dress up, some kind of space doctor coming to save Earth from an alien invasion.

"Monty, let me in." He rapped on the door, pressing his cheek to the particle board and throwing glances back at Bellamy, before he even realized that Clarke was perched on the edge of his bed.

"Oh, hello there." Jasper drawled. He sounded like a fool.

"Uhm, no, I don't think so," Bellamy jostled the door handle, and averted Jasper's gaze from Clarke. Now she was definitely amused.

"Monty, if you open this door right now, I won't make you explain what the hell you two were doing!" Bellamy yelled. He had Jasper pinned to the door, though he was ducking underneath Bellamy's arm, eyeing Clarke.

The door swung open and Jasper stumbled in, mouthing 'Call me!' to Clarke with his hand held to his ear like a phone.

"Out!" Bellamy ordered and slammed the door shut, leaning against it with an exasperated sigh. Clarke could hear Monty and Jasper giggling like a pair of girls in the bathroom.

"Nobody messes with my room! Or looks at my girlfriend!" Jasper mimicked Bellamy in a comically low voice and Monty's muffled laughter followed.

Clarke giggled and Bellamy glanced up at her. She watched his frustration melt from his face.

"What?" He asked with a crooked smile.

"Oh, nothing," Clarke smiled sweetly at him. He stayed leaning against the door.

"I told you they are actually insane. Sorry Jasper scared the crap out of you."

"He did not!" Clarke protested.

"Oh really?"

"Yes, I was just…. Startled, is all."

"Clarke, you were as white as a ghost." Bellamy teased. He walked over to the bed and heaved himself up like it was chore and settled beside Clarke, keeping a respectful distance. "You still are."

"That's racist," Clarke said. "I can't help the color of my skin."

"Oh, Clarke." Bellamy rolled his eyes, laying down on the bed.

"Hmm?"

"What?"

"What?"

"Oh, nothing."

Clarke scoffed and backhanded Bellamy in the ribs.

"Oof," He crumpled into a ball as if Clarke had hurt him. His weight shifted the bed and the blankets rustled under them.

"So, I'm your girlfriend now?" Clarke asked playfully.

"What?" Bellamy sat up, ramrod straight.

Clarke felt her pulse quicken at his reaction and quickly explained. "Jasper said- he was teasing you- when you- for him saying-"

"Oh!" Bellamy sighed and Clarke could swear she saw a faint blush pushing its way to the surface of his sun-tanned cheeks.

"Yeah, I was just- making a joke." Clarke shuffled away from him slightly, her chest fluttering. Somehow she was somewhat- disappointed?- by his immediate reaction to her tease.

"What? You think being in a relationship with me would be a joke?" Bellamy asked. He had resumed his lying position and looked up at Clarke through his lashes.

"No, I don't." She started to say, then looked away. She knew she was blushing, it was hard to hide anything behind these 'ghost white cheeks'. Why though? She had no attraction to Bellamy Blake. And there was no way he had feelings for her, not with his knowledge about her...circumstance.

"Okay." Bellamy said easily, backing off from the subject. Bellamy contorted everything around Clarke. He was just too good. Clarke felt a prick of guilt replace the blush, thinking about the way he changed what he wanted to say and do and how he acted according to her reactions. Even though he was subtle about it, Clarke noticed. Of course she did. There was a reason Bellamy was the only person she felt comfortable around.

"It would not be a joke. I'm sure you would be just the- sweetest boyfriend." Clarke said, laying back on the bed so Bellamy couldn't see her face. Her feet hung above the floor by several inches, where the soles of Bellamy's shoes skimmed the carpet.

"Huh," Bellamy scoffed.

"What? You would. You're a good guy." Clarke insisted.

"Thanks, Princess."

Clarke turned her head to look at him. Bellamy gazed up at the ceiling, a wistful-like expression playing on his face.

"You don't agree?" She asked, propping up on her elbow to get his attention. She was curious about his scant responses.

Bellamy turned his head on the blanket. His already messy curly hair turned staticky at the interaction, sticking up in little spikes and fuzzy clumps. Clarke swallowed her urge to reach out and smooth it down. It was the first time she had felt an urge to initiate contact with anyone since the incident.

"Oh, I don't know." Bellamy said faintly, his gaze just above Clarke's eyes.

"What do you mean by that?"

Bellamy didn't answer. His gaze slipped into space and his thumb rubbed absent circles on the blanket, patterning the fabric with an ever changing loop.

Clarke laid back down. She should get back to her room. Raven would definitely be wondering where she was. It had to be nearing 10:30 by this point. But something kept her rooted to the bed, whether it was the rhythm of Bellamy's steady breathing or the comfort that the room seemed to provide, Clarke didn't know.

**AN_**

**Hey guys! I have a couple pieces of exciting news, so read if you want.**

**1\. I have found a beta-reader and I am so so excited about it. Thank you a hundred times, kyliEisMC2. I know you'll help me make my writing the best it can be. :)**

**2\. My brother was accepted to the University of Minnesota! Woo hoo! I'm so proud of him, he has worked so hard, and now, hopefully, I can get some insider knowledge. Haha. He won't be going for several months, but my family is going to be making a visit as soon as they open up their facilities again. (we also have plans to attend a Gopher's football game, and I'm pumped.)**

**As always, thanks for reading!**

**-Birch66724**


	14. Chapter 14

Bellamy lay on the bed, fully absorbed in the pattern of Clarke's breathing. She had abandoned her line of questioning when she had lain down beside him, falling still in the quiet of the room. Bellamy thought she had fallen asleep, but then he saw her eyelashes flicker and she sniffed, causing her nose to crinkle and Bellamy's chest swelled. He tried to ignore the feeling that flowed like a tangible liquid, but it was insistent.

"I'm sure you would be just the sweetest boyfriend," Clarke's words echoed in his mind. Bellamy wasn't sure whether they were true or not. He hoped they would be.

Clarke shifted beside him, sitting up, drawing Bellamy from his musings.

"I should go," Clarke said softly, stifling a yawn. She laid the back of her hand over her open mouth.

"Yeah. It's late," Bellamy said, groaning as he stood up. Clarke looked at him while she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"You don't have to walk me up. I'm good."

"I'd feel better if I came with you," Bellamy said, and loved Clarke's shy smile.

"I mean, I won't say no." Her mouth morphed into a wry grin.

Bellamy offered Clarke his hand and she didn't hesitate to take it. He pulled her to her feet and she let go, far too soon for Bellamy's liking. He opened the door and they walked into the hall. There was one boy walking back to his dorm at the end, fumbling with his key and an armload of books.

"Sorry I didn't respond to your questions," Bellamy said quickly. He wanted to apologize, but the words were uncomfortable.

"Don't be sorry," Clarke said, understanding. "I won't bring it up again."

"No, that's not what I mean," Bellamy quickly said. Clarke looked up at him with a raised brow. "I just, oh God, you're going to laugh at me." Bellamy pushed in his eyes with his palms, groaning out the words.

"What? I would never!" Clarke protested brightly. She had her back pressed against the door to the stairwell, blocking the way. Her eyes had a glint to them, she wasn't going to move until he told her. After all, Bellamy was the one who'd brought it back up.

"So?" Clarke prodded, nodding expectantly.

"Clarke…" Bellamy pleaded, dropping his head to one side and making a puppy-dog face up at her.

"Hey, you brought it up again! I was going to let you get off scot free!"

"Mmm, yes. Well…" Bellamy scratched the back of his neck. Clarke's face was all eager anticipation and amusement as she waited patiently, standing on her toes to block the handle of the door.

Bellamy swallowed and said it. "I wouldn't know if I was a -uh good boyfriend because I've never had a girlfriend before." Bellamy ducked his head.

"What!" Clarke yelled.

"Hey!" Bellamy jumped back as Clarke hit him in the arm.

"Don't lie to me!" Clarke scoffed. "Bellamy Blake! Never had a girlfriend!"

"Keep it down!" Bellamy hushed her. He actually was embarrassed about this, and at having to tell Clarke, but her reaction was keeping a smile on his face.

"I don't believe it for a second!" Clarke exclaimed, shaking her head.

"I know it's hard to believe that anyone could resist me, but..." He replied.

"Ugh!" Clarke rolled her eyes and pushed her way into the stairwell. She jogged up the first flight of stairs before spinning around on the edge of the landing. Bellamy was still on the first step, looking up at her. She gave him a puzzled look, then scoffed again and shook her head.

"Clarke!" Bellamy bounded up the stairs three at a time to meet her at the top where she stood still with her hands clasped behind her back.

"I simply won't believe your lies," she said, tipping her nose in the air in mock superiority.

"Ask Octavia if you don't think I'm telling the truth," Bellamy challenged, then regretted even suggesting it when Clarke's eyes flashed. He did not want to end up in a conversation concerning his romantic past with his sister. Octavia was sure to inform Clarke of some rather… unsavory things.

"I just might," Clarke said, turning and lightly jogging up the rest of the stairs to the fourth floor. She noisily pushed the door open and slipped into the dim hallway. Bellamy didn't even think about not following her, using his long legs to his advantage and catching up to Clarke as she strode down the hall.

She was the picture of confidence at this moment, all playful mischief and bold statements. It was hard to imagine that she had been scared to walk home alone in the dark or crying into his chest just half an hour before.

Bellamy couldn't help the pang that formed in his chest. He knew just how hard Clarke was fighting against the dark feelings raging inside of her. She was determined, stubborn, and hard on herself.

Just as Clarke was about to reach for the handle of her door, it opened from the inside. She startled and jumped back, bumping into Bellamy who had come up behind her, which only made her stumble farther away. Bellamy quickly steadied her with a hand on her arm.

"Clarke, what the hell!" Raven's voice was loud and harsh. She met Bellamy's gaze with an unreadable expression before her eyes flickered down to his hand, still holding Clarke steady.

"Hi," Clarke said lamely.

"Where have you been? You said you were going to be home at like eight or something and it's almost eleven! I thought you got kidnapped or sex trafficed or got sick again or something," Raven grumbled, retreating back into the room. She didn't see how Clarke quivered at her words. Bellamy felt it though, the goosebumps that raised on her skin and the way she shrank back in on herself.

"Yeah," she started faintly. "I uh, went shopping, then I got distracted, and I uh, ran into Bellamy. Sorry I didn't text."

"It's fine," Raven softened slightly. "I just worry, you know? Someone has to look out for you."

"Thanks Raven. I'd do the same for you."

"Sweet," Raven said dryly, gathering up a bundle of clothes from her bed. "I'm going to shower."

Bellamy followed Clarke a few feet into her dorm as Raven swung open the bathroom door, revealing Octavia at the sink, brushing her teeth.

"Bell?" She asked around her toothbrush, her face changing into a scowl.

Bellamy glanced up, not having seen her until she spoke.

"Hey, O."

Clarke looked between the siblings before turning her back and busying herself at her desk. Bellamy cringed, knowing he was about to get an earful from his sister.

"What are you doing here?" Octavia asked harshly, spitting her toothpaste into the sink while she waited for an answer. Bellamy didn't know what to say, so he stuck with the lie that Clarke had started to Raven.

"Oh God, here we go," Raven muttered, plunking down on the toilet seat to wait for the bathroom to be free.

"Nothin'. Just met Clarke walking home, and came upstairs with her," Bellamy said breezily, shooting a glance at Clarke's still turned back.

Octavia glared at him, but Bellamy kept his cool. Lately, Octavia had been on a independance kick, resenting any sort of help or guidance that he offered her. She wanted nothing to do with her big brother since coming to college. Of course, Bellamy couldn't completely leave her alone, someone needed to keep tabs on her, and that job had always been his.

"It's true," Clarke corroborated Bellamy's story, turning around slowly and biting her lip.

Octavia turned her glare to Clarke. "You sure? Because I don't need you to lie for Bellamy, so he can come up here to- to babysit me!" Octavia yelled.

Bellamy felt his jaw tighten.

"That's not-" he tried to interject calmly, but Octavia cut him off.

"I'm an adult, Bellamy! Eighteen years old! I can take care of myself!" She slammed the toothbrush down on the counter and stalked passed Raven, slamming the opposite bathroom door and disappearing into her dorm.

"More like fourteen years old," Bellamy grumbled, embarrassed on his sister's behalf. Raven snorted and stood.

"Have fun with that." She grinned at Bellamy as she pushed the door closed. The shower started up a moment later. Bellamy took a deep breath and let it out in an attempt to quell the irritation and anger brewing within him.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Clarke shook her head and stared with wide eyes at the floor.

"Clarke? No it's not your-"

"Yes! It is my fault! I am getting your life all messed up," she fretted, turning and compulsively smoothing her comforter.

"Messed up how?" Bellamy asked.

"With Octavia, I made her yell and get mad at you," she sniffed, moving on to adjusting her pillowcase.

"She'd do that anyway. It's what little sisters do." Bellamy leaned against the wall.

"And I always interrupt you. You're busy, and I just call you and you answer right away and…" Clarke trailed off.

"Yeah? Trust me Clarke, you calling me is not a big deal."

"Okay," she conceded. "And I ruined your shirt!"

Bellamy chuckled and Clarke looked up at him with doe eyes.

"I'm serious! I feel bad about it."

"Don't."

"That doesn't help."

"Will your cake help? Pay me back in chocolate."

"It'll make me feel better," Clarke said firmly.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Princess."

"It will help me sleep. Now go on! I won't keep you any longer." Clarke started to push him towards the door. Bellamy dug in his heels and grinned at her.

"Bellamy! Go to sleep! I'm not going to keep you up late again."

"What if I want you to?" Bellamy said and Clarke froze. He regretted it for a moment, thinking he'd scared her, until she looked up.

"Don't say that," she said in a whisper.

"Okay," he said easily, because he could see, plain as day, that her words didn't agree with her emotions.

"Have a good night," Clarke said once she had Bellamy in the hallway.

"You too, and don't hesitate to text me if you need anything, Princess," Bellamy said over his shoulder, grinning to himself as he walked down the hall. He heard Clarke's fond scoff trailing him.

**AN_**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Birch66724**


	15. Chapter 15

Clarke stared at the closed door, imagining Bellamy walking down the hall, pushing open the door to the stairwell, plodding down them, back out into the hall, opening his door, and sitting on the edge of his bed. Right beneath her.

She took a steadying breath and changed into her pajama shorts and a tee, consciously keeping her mind blank. It kept leaning towards thoughts over her evening's companion, and then to her embarrassment about crying on him, then to the warm feeling he'd left with her, after his comment...

Clarke pushed it down.

There was no way should be feeling like this right now; that giddy, bubbly feeling you got when you noticed for the first time how cute the boy who sat in front of you in math was, or saw that the waiter was giving you an eye and a flirtatious smile, so you wrote your phone number on the receipt.

She forced the thoughts from her head. She had thought she hadn't wanted to be touched by another man as long as she lived.

Unless that man was Bellamy Blake.

"No!" She said aloud, stumbling back and half falling into her desk chair. It almost felt like a betrayal of her wounded pride and scarred emotions to be moving on so quickly. Suddenly, Bellamy's warm smile contorted into Finn's sickening grin, and Bellamy's soothing hug turned to a vice grip around her shoulders, and all she could see was Finn. All she could think of was the fact that she was not moving on quickly, that she didn't know if she would ever move on.

So she sat, head in her hands, trying to take calming breaths and keep her mind blank, because her emotions were too strong, too confusing, and she just couldn't sort through them. She compartmentalized them within her head, packing them up in neat little boxes, sealing some with thick layers of tape and leaving others with the flaps hanging open, contents spilling over the edge. Some thoughts she wanted to keep within easy reach, so she could mull them over, relive them, and some she wished she could banish from her head and never give a second thought to. So, she did the next best thing: wrapped them up tight, stuffing them into dark recesses of her mind where they could hopefully stay hidden.

After several long moments, the shower shut off. The barely noticeable hum in the wall ceased and the dorm felt vacant. Clarke was glad when Raven emerged with a swath of steam a few minutes later, her long black hair leaving wet lines on the back of her pale blue sleep shirt.

"So, what's new Clarke?" She asked, hanging her towel over her chair.

"Nothing. Sorry I didn't let you know, I just got caught up and…"

"No, no! Completely fine," Raven turned and smirked at her roommate. "I understand that you were...busy."

It took a moment for Clarke to grasp what Raven was insinuating. "Absolutely not! We were outside!" Clarke objected, flustered.

"Oo, exotic," Raven teased. "Tried that a time or two, sort of adds that extra little exhilaration, you know? That you could be caught at any moment."

"Nope," Clarke said firmly. She could feel the flush on her face and hoped Raven didn't perceive it as incriminating.

"Okay, keep your secrets," Raven winked, returning to the bathroom and brushing through her wet hair. Clarke remained, frozen to her chair, both terrified and strangely lightheaded at Raven's thoughts about how her evening had transpired.

"Bellamy is pretty hot," Raven said wryly, lowering her voice as she leaned around the door frame.

"Raven!" Clarke yelped.

"What? It's not like Finn cares. Well, he might. Don't tell him I said, okay?"

"I would never," Clarke growled.

"I like your loyalty! I bet you'd be a type nine," Raven said. Clarke's head started spinning at the mention of his name, but she gripped the edge of her desk until the wood started to dig into her palms, grounding her.

"Type… nine?" Clarke questioned to continue the conversation in a direction other than Bellamy.

"Yeah. Enneagrams? Have you ever done those?" Raven leaned into the mirror and scratched at her front teeth.

"No,"

"Huh. They're fun, I think. We did 'em in high school for some psychology class. They are like personality numbers. Tells what you're like from a little quiz."

"Hmm," Clarke had in fact heard of Enneagrams, but was rather disinterested in the topic.

"But other than that, I hated that class. I don't like all that mind brain stuff. I like working with my hands, doing something where I can actually see the result."

"I get that. That's why I like medicine. You can see if what you're doing is having an effect on the patient," Clarke agreed, willingly changing topics.

"Yeah. That's good."

"It is," Clarke yawned. She glanced at the alarm on Raven's desk. 11:42PM.

"I'm going to bed. You staying up?" Raven asked as she climbed into her bed.

Clarke yawned again as she stood. "No, no. Just going to brush my teeth quick."

"Okay."

"Hey, what happened to you not liking to shower at night?" Clarke questioned as Raven flicked her damp hair over her shoulder with a scowl.

She shrugged in response, then added dismissively, "Gotta switch it up sometimes, I guess."

"Huh,"

"Goodnight Clarke."

"Goodnight."

"And hey," Raven called.

"What?"

"Don't be afraid to tell me about Bellamy, I'm happy to discuss." Raven winked.

Clarke rolled her eyes and shut herself in the bathroom. She was going to have to be careful with Bellamy, so Raven didn't get any more ideas. Unless that would be good…? Distract from the past and move on to something new. Raven would never suspect a thing with Finn if Clarke was involved with Bellamy.

Clarke's thoughts swirled as she stood at the sink. Never did Clarke want to tell anyone about what Finn did to her, but what if it was for Raven's safety? How could a man who could attack a girl be a pleasant boyfriend?

Raven had never let on to any form of abuse in her relationship, but then again, Clarke hadn't known her very long, and Finn and Raven had been together practically forever. Perhaps she had gotten so good at hiding it over the years? But no, Raven was bold and strong and Clarke knew she wouldn't sit still if she was abused. She would stand up for herself, get help and face the problem head on in a way Clarke couldn't.

It made her feel weak, the realization that this incident was so deeply buried within her, with roots stretching out into every inch of her body, coiling abound her bones and working its way into her heart and soul. It was a crushing weight.

Clarke stared at herself in the mirror. At her ashen skin and sunken cheeks, dark circles under her dull eyes and stringy hair. She looked like a shadow of her former self. Clarke knew she had lost several pounds over the past week, making negative progress on gaining her 'freshman fifteen'.

Clarke's resolve hardened then. This wasn't going to break her. She was strong, and she could move on. College was meant to be the best time of her life, and Finn wasn't going to ruin that. Clarke would move on. She would take care of herself, excel in school, and have a social life.

"I can do this," she whispered to herself, then smiled. She could do this. She would do this.

**AN_**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Birch66724 **


	16. Chapter 16

Bellamy yawned wide and flopped down on his bed, rubbing his eyes and arching his back in a stretch. It took him a moment to process the last hour. Clarke had turned to him in a time of need, then turned to a puddle in his arms. Octavia was being defiant, like usual, and Bellamy still hadn't finished his Intro assignment for College Algebra.

He yawned again as he stood and stripped off his clothes, tossing them to the floor and slipping on a pair of loose basketball shorts; his usual sleeping attire. He plopped down at his desk and pulled out his laptop and got to work, after setting his phone beside the computer to watch for any incoming messages.

It was nearing 1:00 AM and Bellamy could barely keep his eyes open. The assignment was nearly finished, and it wasn't due until class at 11:00AM.

"Good enough," He muttered and slapped the laptop closed. Math had never been his strong suit. He hadn't received notifications on his phone, either from Clarke or Octavia or anyone else, although he wouldn't be expecting anyone else besides those two to contact him, especially at this time of night.

Bellamy slid into bed and was grateful that Jasper and Monty were having a quiet night after being busted earlier. He sprawled out as much as he was able to on the twin sized mattress and got comfortable. Bellamy worked through his usual nightly routine of thinking about his mother, telling himself he ought try to call her the next day, but never actually doing it. He made the mental reminder that he needed to send in some more money for her commissary account. It had been several weeks and she was probably running low by now.

Then he moved on to Octavia. Something about her outburst in Clarke's room rubbed him the wrong way, and Bellamy resolved to follow up with his little sister in the morning, even if that meant getting barked at again.

Bellamy moved onto the final person on his checklist. Clarke. He had unconsciously added her to his nighttime routine sometime over the last week. Now was the first time he had really paused to consider it. His list consisted of those he took care of, looked out for, loved.

Somehow, Clarke had slipped in there. Bellamy smiled to himself in the darkness as he thought about the way her face lit up when he walked into Target to come walk her home. Like a knight in shining armour coming to rescue his princess, though her situation was far from a fairy tale.

He was already looking forward to her cake, though he still wasn't exactly sure what German Chocolate was; he'd forgotten to look it up. It didn't matter though, because Bellamy knew that even if he didn't like it - which he severely doubted he could meet a cake he didn't like - he would eat it anyways, just so Clarke felt like she had 'repaid' him.

* * *

Classes were dull the following morning. Bellamy wasn't going for a specific degree right now, so he was just getting all of his gen-eds out of the way. It was basically like a harder version of high school. On the docket for today was College Algebra and Biology 111. Biology was better than math, but still not Bellamy's thing. He liked to work with his hands and with people. Why learn about the lifecycle of red algae when you could be helping someone with something important?

The highlight of the science hour was receiving a text from Clarke. It read:

C: When are you going to be back? You're holding all my flour hostage in your dorm!

Bellamy smiled and checked the time.

B: 20 mins.

C: Might have to break down your door...

B: Try not to Princess. C u soon.

C: Too much to type out 'see you soon'?

B: Obviously. Ttyl.

It took a moment for Clarke's next message to come through, but it was worth the wait. It was one of those pictures that moved when you pressed down on them. Octavia used to send those all the time, to the point were Bellamy stopped watching them.

It was a short looping gif of that overweight black guy, the one from The Office, who's name Bellamy couldn't quite remember, rolling his eyes and looking utterly fed up. He chuckled aloud, both at the humor of the gif, and at Clarke for sending it, which garnered the attention of the classmate directly on his left. He clicked his phone off and discreetly slid it into his pocket, morphing his laugh into a strangled cough that was much louder than he intended. The professor's gaze, which had been roaming over her students, honed in on Bellamy as he shuffled in his seat, splaying his knees to sink further down and hiding his face with a hand placed over his mouth. The professor raised a brow, but didn't miss a beat in her lecture, continuing on with her explanation of modernizing ecology as if a student potentially choking didn't detract from the importance of the lesson.

Bellamy laid low for the rest of the class, only moving from his uncomfortable position when the rest of his classmates started to pack up their things. It was a big lecture hall, most of the gen-ed classes had 70 or more students in them, so he was easily able to slip in with the crowd making their way down the steps.

The professor was a relatively young looking woman who spoke passionately about her subject. She was intriguing enough to have held Bellamy's attention through the beginning part of the class, so that made her a good teacher in his book. Of course, once Clarke had texted him, all of his focus had gone out the window.

Now, the professor stood at the door, chatting and saying goodbye to her students as they filed out into the building, either back to their dorms or the library or to their next class.

Bellamy gave her a smile and a nod and felt regretful that he hadn't bothered to learn her name yet. She raised a brow and held her fingers to her ear in a phone gesture.

He stopped abruptly, causing the girl walking behind him to bump into his back. She muttered an apology and walked roughly around him, but Bellamy hardly noticed in his shock.

Did his professor just ask him to call her?

"Mr. Blake?" she questioned, frowning at him.

"Sorry," he spluttered, rubbing his hand across his neck as he stepped out of the way of his exiting classmates.

"You don't have to stay after, I would just appreciate it if your phone would remain in your pocket during class lectures." She said primly and the heat of embarrassment crept up his face.

Oh God, he was making this into a disaster now.

"Of course, ma'am," he said awkwardly, keeping his voice steady as he cursed himself for not remembering her name. It had been right at the top of the syllabus and she'd certainly said it when she introduced herself.

"Please, I'd prefer Miss Schuwieler, or Professor, Mr. Blake." She corrected with an almost apologetic expression.

"Sorry, Mrs. Schuwieler. Call me Bellamy, then,"

"Alright," she agreed. "Have a good rest of her day then, Bellamy."

"You too! And it won't happen again. My phone, I mean. I just have a friend who's… well- doesn't matter."

Professor Schuwieler nodded and turned towards her desk situated beside the door. Bellamy took his leave, feeling utterly embarrassed, which was a new feeling for him. He felt like Clarke, with how much he was apologizing to the professor, and the smile that brought to his face was enough to tamp down the heat brewing under his shirt collar.

He followed the thinning stream of students down the wide hallway and into the common area of the building. People milled about but Bellamy didn't recognize anyone, so he pushed through the double doors and out into the warm afternoon.

He squinted into the sun for a moment before starting down the sidewalk back towards Frontier Hall. He walked quickly, enjoying the warm air, knowing it wouldn't stick around too much longer. Fall in Minnesota was beautiful, but short.

"I thought you'd gotten lost on the walk back," Clarke greeted Bellamy when he stepped out of the elevator. She was sitting on the floor beside his door, knees pulled up to her chin.

"You wish," He said as he pulled his key from his pocket and offered his other hand to help Clarke up from the floor. She accepted and he easily pulled her to her feet.

"I don't wish that. Then I wouldn't get to make my cake."

"Could've just broken down the door," Bellamy joked.

"That was my other option," Clarke replied, slipping around Bellamy and entering the room first. The shade was drawn and the room was dim, the only light squeaking in around the edges of the blinds.

"Eager, huh?"

"Yes, This'll take me like, four hours to make the whole thing." Clarke started to rustle through the Target bags on the spare desk.

"Four?" Bellamy asked incredulously.

"Uh huh," she said, standing up. Her hair was tied back into a messy bundle resting on the nape of her neck. "You should let some light in here or you'll grow mold."

"Yes sir," Bellamy saluted her and Clarke hummed in amusement.

"Mold spores will give you all kinds of respiratory problems."

"Well, don't want that, now do we?" Bellamy swept open the blind in a grand gesture and the room was flooded with golden light. Heat trapped between the shade and the glass cascaded over the sill onto Bellamy's arm, making the hairs prickle.

"Much better," Clarke said, laughing and squinting into the brightness. She gathered her bag of ingredients and seemed surprised when Bellamy followed her out of the room. He gave pause for a moment. Had she forgotten he'd offered to join her, or did she not want him to come?

Clarke looked back at him, stradling the doorway. Her face was so sweet, her eyes bright.

"C'mon then. I suppose I'll need someone to taste test."

"I'm sure I'll ace it."

"Huh?"

"The test. The taste - test. I'll score 100 percent. On eating"

"Pfft. The joke isn't funny if you have to explain it!" Clarke complained.

"You're the one who didn't get it!"

"I did too,"

"It's alright. My humor is just too sophisticated for normal people," Bellamy teased.

"O-kay!" Clarke scoffed and started down the stairs, amused. Bellamy followed her with high spirits. Something about making Clarke laugh filled him with an unmatched joy.

Bellamy spent the next couple of hours perched on the edge of the counter in the dorm's communal kitchen, watching Clarke bake. She moved around the kitchen with a confident ease, measuring ingredients and mixing things together. She knew what she was doing and it was obvious that baking was something she enjoyed. Bellamy was happy to just be there, but it was an added bonus when Clarke handed him a spatula or bowl to lick.

"I think they are done," Clarke was looking thoughtfully into the oven. She had an adorable thinking face...

"Hmm," Bellamy knew not a thing about cakes and had no advice for her.

"See? You can see them pulling away from the sides of the pan. I'd better get them out."

As Clarke slid on an oven mitt, her phone started buzzing on the counter.

"Can you see who it is?" Clarke asked, reaching into the oven.

"Sure," Bellamy reached over her and picked up her phone. "It's Raven."

"Oh, can you answer it?" She asked, lifting up one of the cake pans.

"Sure." Bellamy said again, sliding the green phone icon across the screen and accepting the call.

"Hello?"

"Clarke? Who is this?" Raven's voice sounded on the other end.

"It's Bellamy," He responded, wondering what Raven's reaction would be to hearing him answering Clarke's phone. He thought back to how surprised she had looked he brought Clarke home last night.

"Hmm. It would be you." She sounded skeptical. "Is Clarke alright? Where is she?"

"She's right here, although a little preoccupied at the moment," Bellamy said, watching Clarke pull the second pan from the oven.

"Doing what?" Raven asked.

Bellamy knew the cake was supposed to be a secret, so he said the first thing that popped into his head. "Using the bathroom."

"Bellamy!" Clarke shouted at him.

"What? I heard her! Why are you in the bathroom with her?"

"He's not!" Clarke shouted, standing up from her crouch in front of the oven.

"Well what-" Raven's voice over the phone was cut off as Clarke cried out.

"Shit!" She yelled, stumbling back, clutching her arm to her chest.

"Clarke?" Bellamy said, dropping the phone onto the counter. It clattered loudly on the cracked linoleum. He pushed off the counter and was at her side in one quick motion, the phone call forgotten.

"I'm fine," she bit out. "Just brushed the side of the oven with my arm."

"Ouch. Better run it under cold water," he said, looking with concern at the growing red blister on Clarke's forearm as he guided her towards the sink. He turned the faucet on cold and eased Clarke's arm under the stream of water. She hissed air through her teeth as the blister was drowned.

"There. That should help it." Bellamy realized how close he was standing to Clarke, pressed against her side, and stepped back, wiping his palms on his shorts.

"Thanks," Clarke murmured, looking back at Bellamy over her shoulder. Her eyes were… tender. Maybe they were welled with tears of pain, but Bellamy thought he saw something more.

"Hello? Clarke? Bellamy?" The muffled vibrations of Raven's voice still came through the discarded phone.

"Ope," Bellamy picked it up and held it to his ear. "Sorry about that Raven. What were you saying?"

"Bellamy? What the hell just happened? Are you still in the bathroom?"

"No…" Bellamy said, floundering for what to say. Clarke reached out with her uninjured arm and gestured for the phone. Bellamy readily handed it over.

"Hi Raven. Sorry about that. What's up?" Clarke watched the water stream over her arm as she talked. Bellamy couldn't hear Raven's words over the sound of the running faucet and Clarke's side of the conversation didn't make much sense.

He watched as her cheeks flushed red, then went ashen a few moments later.

"Okay. See you later," Clarke hung up the phone and placed it gingerly on the counter.

Bellamy watched her for a moment, until it became apparent that she was not going to be the first one to speak.

"What did Raven want?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, just to say she wasn't going to be around tonight," Clarke said absently. Bellamy knew where this was headed and he didn't want to make Clarke say it, so he did.

"Because she's going to… his place."

Clarke only nodded.

"I see. At least he isn't coming here," he offered. Clarke sniffed.

"I could keep an eye on Raven if he was, to make sure she was alright."

"You wouldn't want to be there if he was, though. "

"True. But I'd at least be nearby. She could yell or- or-"

"Shh, Clarke, Raven's alright. I doubt she would keep seeing him if he was hurting her."

"That doesn't mean he won't start!" Clarke said, looking up from the sink for the first time, her eyes wide and watery.

Bellamy didn't have a response. Instead he fetched the towel from the other side of the sink and shut off the faucet. Clarke let him dry off her arm.

"How does it feel?" Bellamy asked. The burn didn't look too bad, but in his opinion, burns were the worst injury out there. They didn't bleed or anything, but they were always present and ached and stung in the worst way. And they left horrible scars. In a twisted sort of way, Bellamy could see Clarke's attack paralleled by a burn across her whole being; ever present and scarring.

"Fine," Clarke said absently. "It feels fine. I'll be fine."

Bellamy frowned. He didn't like when this happened to Clarke. Her eyes got all glassy and her face froze. He knew she was thinking about that night, and what Finn had done to her…

He clenched his jaw in frustration. Any time he thought about that- that- animal, his blood boiled. Bellamy knew that if he ever saw Finn again, he would beat the living daylights out of him. He would do it happily.

"Do you think I should tell Raven?" Clarke looked up at Bellamy, question and concern mixing on her face, making her brow knit and faint lines appear beside her eyes.

Bellamy honestly didn't know. "I think you should do what you think is right," he finally said.

"That's some answer," Clarke mumbled without malice. She clearly hadn't expected him to have a strong opinion on the topic.

"If nothing seems… off with Raven, or Finn doesn't come around," Bellamy watched Clarke flinch when he said Finn's name. "You might want to leave it alone. If that's what you want."

"He just gets off scott free," Clarke muttered darkly.

"No! That's not what I meant. If you want my actual opinion, I think you should go to the police. I'd testify for you, if that's how they'd do it, I don't know. He should be punished to the highest extent of the law. He should go to jail, hopefully forever. And then he can rot in Hell after that."

Bellamy's fists were clenched. Clarke looked surprised at his passionate statement; her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed. Bellamy felt awkward for a moment, but was careful not to let it show. He had said what he truly felt, so why be embarrassed?

"That's…" Clarke started, her gaze trailing off with her words. Bellamy didn't say anything, but again he was fighting that urge to reach out and hug Clarke to him. He seemed to feel it every time he was with her. Was it pity or… something more?

Clarke cleared her throat and pushed away from the sink, clearly moving on from the topic.

"I'd better get going on this frosting if we want this cake to be done any time soon."

"Yeah. I need something else to sample. My blood sugar is getting dangerously low," Bellamy said lightly as Clarke stretched up on her toes to reach into a cupboard for a bowl.

She smiled softly as she returned to a flatfooted posture. "But Bellamy," she turned to him. "It's nice to know someone's on my side."

"Where else would I be?" Bellamy said warmly.

**AN_**

**Not much to say today, but thanks for reading, and I would love to know your thoughts. :)**

**-Birch66724**


	17. Chapter 17

"Honestly, the best part about a German Chocolate cake is that you don't have to frost the sides," Clarke said, dolloping a spatculaful of frosting atop the cake.

"That's something. It looks sort of… rustic. I think that's the word they used," Bellamy said. He was standing beside Clarke at the counter. He had sensed her mood change after Raven's phone call and had stuck close to her side, as if right there on the counter wasn't near enough. Clarke didn't mind though. His presence was reassuring.

"Rustic? Where'd you hear that?" Clarke asked, amused.

She watched Bellamy shrug. "My mom used to like to watch those baking shows. It was one of the channels you got without paying for cable."

"Oh," Clarke replied, glancing back down at her cake. That was sort of a loaded statement and she wasn't sure what to reply.

Bellamy chuckled darkly. "Yeah. Those were the days,"

"Do you miss you mom?" Clarke asked, focusing intently on scraping the last of the frosting from the bowl.

Bellamy took a moment to respond. Clarke listened to his shorts rustle as he shifted his weight to his other foot.

"Of course. She's my mother."

"But…?" Clarke asked, as Bellamy's tone had left the statement unfinished.

"But, she really wasn't a mom for us. I mean, in the literal sense, sure, she birthed us, but she was never really there for us. Alcohol and strange men are more alluring than a couple of crying kids."

"I'm sorry," Clarke said. Bellamy's voice was terribly resigned, and his feeble attempt at humor made his words all the more disheartening. This was a truth he had long since accepted.

"S'not your fault."

"I know, but it makes me feel guilty." Clarke put down the bowl and turned to face Bellamy, leaning against the edge of the counter.

"How?" His face was questioning.

"Like, I know my mom loves me, and she was always there for me, even though I was closer with my dad. And I… I don't even talk to her. I've called her once since I moved out here." Clarke felt her throat start to close up and she couldn't maintain eye contact with Bellamy any longer.

"Oh, Clarke. You can't feel guilty about that." She didn't look up. "Hey, Princess. You've got a lot on your plate right now," Bellamy said, ducking his head down to coax Clarke. Her gaze flickered up and Bellamy was smiling sweetly. He was too good to her… And all she was doing was baking him a lousy cake.

"Fine."

Bellamy chuckled.

"Thank you for everything." Clarke turned and picked up the completed cake, holding it out to him.

"Aww, all for me? Thank you!" Bellamy placed a hand to his chest in feign surprise.

"Of course! Just take out a piece for Raven and Harper and one for Octavia, too. And you can't have it until after I take it upstairs and also give it to them."

"Hmm, this sounds rigged somehow."

"It's not. Just don't think about it too hard."

"Whatever you say!"

"Oh, whatever I say, huh?" Clarke flashed Bellamy a look and he visibly swallowed. Clarke pretended she didn't notice and continued on with their playful conversation.

"What if I said, 'Bellamy, would you be a dear and wash up all these dishes?'?"

"If you said that, I'd have to say, 'Of course, since you have so generously baked a whole cake just for me, the least I could do is wash up a few pans.'" Bellamy was grinning as he moved to the sink and started running the water.

"Thanks," Clarke said, dropping the funny tone she had been talking in and came to Bellamy's side to help.

"You'll wear out that word if you keep saying it so much, Clarke," he scolded, turning a frown on her.

"Sorry, -"

"That one too!"

"I- Bellamy!" He started laughing at her open-mouthed expression.

"Brat," Clarke smacked him on the shoulder and pushed dishes into the sudsy basin.

"Just making a point," Bellamy's brown eyes twinkled mischievously, clearly he was enjoying chastising Clarke.

"Well, I hear you, loud and clear."

"Good!" he chirped.

"But Bellamy," Clarke started seriously. "I can't say thank you enough. I honestly don't- I don't know where I'd be without you. Literally. You got me out of there and I- Well, you saved my life. How can I say thank you too many times?"

Clarke's words quickly sobered Bellamy.

"I don't want you to feel like you're in my debt. You're not. At all. I did the right thing, the same thing that anyone, hopefully, would have done. And I got your friendship out of it, so that is more than thanks enough."

Bellamy gazed at Clarke and she felt her throat close up again. She looked back into his sincere face and couldn't speak. She was overflowing with emotion and gratitude. The only thing she could do was wrap her arms around Bellamy, hoping she could convey herself without talking, as she feared she would be unable to without tearing up.

She closed the distance between them and looped her arms around Bellamy's chest. She pressed the side of her face into his t-shirt and relaxed into Bellamy as he enveloped her in his strong arms. It was the safest, most comfortable Clarke had been in a week. She took a deep breath and her nose filled with the warm ethereal scent of Bellamy. As Clarke exhaled, Bellamy tightened his hug in the space vacated.

"And Princess?"

"Yeah?"

"You're welcome."

Clarke smiled and pulled back. Bellamy was still looking at her, and Clarke could feel her cheeks start to flush. She turned away so he wouldn't see, embarrassed.

"Maybe if we hurry we can catch Raven before she leaves," Clarke suggested and started fishing around in the sink for the washrag.

Bellamy agreed. "Yeah," Clarke washed up the bowl and handed it to Bellamy to dry. They cleaned up the kitchenette without speaking. Clarke's thoughts were swirling around in her head like a blizzard, so it suited her just fine. She couldn't deny the way she felt when Bellamy held her, but it was not what she needed right now. Just because Bellamy was being nice to her, helping her out, did not mean she had to go and develop a crush on him. She could feel her face flush again…

"Woah, watch that hot water!" Bellamy warned, swinging the faucet away from Clarke's arm, saving her the discomfort of heat in her fresh burn.

"Oh!" Clarke pulled her arm back. She hadn't been paying attention to what she was doing. Again. "Tha-"

"Uh! Nope!" Bellamy interrupted her thanks. Clarke turned indignantly towards him.

"Bellamy! How can I-"

"Just don't say it." He stuck his nose in the air with a smug expression.

Clarke flicked the water from her hands at him. It freckled his grey t-shirt as he pretended to be appalled.

"How dare you!" He said in a low tone, turning a glare on Clarke. "I wash dishes for you, and this is the thanks I get?"

"You wouldn't let me say it out loud, so yes," Clarke smarted.

Bellamy gave pause and his face relaxed. "Fair enough."

"Let's get going upstairs, what time is it anyway?" Clarke picked up the cake which was stacked on a paper plate for lack of actual dishes.

"Uh, like eight o'clock I think," Bellamy said as he led the way down the hall.

"Eight? When did it get so late?" Clarke was surprised. They had been down in the basement for nearly four hours! She knew the cake took a long time to bake and cool and frost, but it hardly felt like any time had passed.

"Time flies when you're having fun, I guess," Bellamy said easily, turning over his shoulder as they reached the end of the hallway. "Want to take the elevator? Or we can go stairs, up to you."

Clarke smiled at his consideration. "Better do the elevator. I don't want to drop the cake,"

"Gotcha." He punched the up key with a finger.

"It's okay when you're with me," Clarke said before she thought about it. Bellamy turned to her.

"Really? That makes me feel good," he said.

"Y-yeah. Or anyone, I mean, I can do it, do the elevator, if I'm with someone. Like Raven or Harper...or..."

Bellamy gave a half chuckle at Clarke's rushed clarification. The doors opened to an empty elevator and they got inside. Clarke was slightly embarrassed about what she said but was trying not to let it show. She didn't say anything until they were standing in front of her dorm door.

"I hope Raven is still here."

"Me too. And she'd better be here if she wants any of this cake or I'll eat it all," Bellamy said.

"You haven't even tried it yet! What if you hate it?" Clarke exclaimed, nodding for him to open the door.

"Impossible," he said. "You made it." He grinned cheekily and swung open the door. Clarke rolled her eyes.

"Who is that?" Raven's voice came from around the corner. "Oh, Bellamy! Is Clarke with you?" She asked, sounding somewhat skeptical.

"Yeah, she's uh, just coming up the stairs," Bellamy pretended to look down the hallway, winking at Clarke. "Where's my sister and Harper?"

"In their dorm…?"

"Good," Bellamy let himself into the bathroom and knocked on the door to the adjoining dorm. "Octavia?"

"Bellamy? What are you doing here?" Clarke couldn't see Raven, but could picture her; drawn brows and a slight frown, one hand on her hip. Clarke remained in the hall, trying to keep her surprise a surprise until all three girls were in the room.

Bellamy didn't respond to Raven, or to Octavia when she burst through the door, starting to get angry at Bellamy's presence. Harper trailed Octavia into the room, and Clarke stepped around the corner, extending the cake to her friends.

"Surprise!" Clarke yelled at the same time as Bellamy.

"What?" Harper started to laugh, while Raven looked confused and Octavia continued to glare at her brother.

"Here," Clarke set the cake down on her desk. "I baked you guys a cake, to say thank you for taking care of me when I was sick. It's German Chocolate." Clarke stepped back and smiled at her friends.

"Oh, Clarke! It looks fabulous! But you didn't have to do that!" Harper cooed.

"Yeah, you did. You vomited in my hairbrush," Octavia said sarcastically.

"I have something for you, Octavia." Clarke said, riffling through the last Target bag of things and producing the new brush.

"Oh yes," Octavia readily accepted the gift. "All is forgiven now." She started running the bristles through her night-dark hair, then added critically, "But why is Bellamy here?"

"He helped too," Clarke said, glancing back at Bellamy, who was leaning casually against the wall.

"Oh yeah. He did something useful for once," Octavia said curtly. Clarke wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic or not, but decided not to dwell on it. If only Octavia knew everything Bellamy had done for her this past week…

"I'm glad you're still here, Raven. I wanted to catch you before you left." Clarke moved on.

"Yeah, change of plans," she scratched her brow. "I'm staying in tonight. I should've texted you," Raven said dully.

"Oh," Clarke said, hiding her pleased feeling at this news. "It's alright. We both know I'm no good at telling you where I am most of the time."

Bellamy scoffed from behind them, attracting a suspicious glare from Octavia.

"What?"

"Nothin'," Bellamy said easily, taking the bag from Clarke and setting paper plates on the desk beside the cake.

"O-kay," Clarke said, in what she hoped wasn't too obvious an attempt to move on from Octavia's sharp words towards her brother. "Do you have the knife, Bellamy?"

"Sure thing, Pr-Clarke." Bellamy fumbled over her name. Oh no. Clarke took the knife from Bellamy without turning around, feeling her heartbeat quicken. He had almost called her Princess in front of everyone. Clarke couldn't put a finger on why exactly that would be a terrible thing, but with Raven already harboring her suspicions about Bellamy and Clarke's 'friendship'...

Clarke served up five slices of cake in silence, aware of eyes on her back.

"Here you go, Rav." Clarke smiled at her friend and handed her a plate, bowing in the middle under the weight of the dense cake.

"Thank you," Raven drawled, her eyes sparkling as she shot a glance at Bellamy. "Now, did he help make the cake, too?"

"Uh, yeah," Bellamy cleared his throat and said. "I ran into Clarke and-"

"No, you were letting me hide the ingredients in your room, because you ran into me yesterday, in the elevator, remember? And you helped me carry my bags?" Clarke looked intently at Bellamy and he nodded along to her story.

"Yes, yes. Yesterday. Then you had to come get the stuff, and I just had nothing better to do, so I came downstairs with you, and now we're here."

"Exactly!" Clarke said, turning away from Bellamy to hand out the rest of the cake. She realized that neither she nor Bellamy had looked away from each other during the whole of their explanation. Looking at Harper's expression as she handed her a plate, Clarke was sure the only thing they had done was make their story seem even more fabricated.

"Oh my God, we did a good job, I'd say," Bellamy interrupted the tense quiet. He'd snuck the cake from the desk without Clarke noticing and shovelled a large bite into his mouth.

"Yeah. This is delicious," Raven agreed. "You two make a pretty good team, I'd say."

"Yeah, we do," Bellamy said brightly, whether trying to divert attention away from Raven's insinuations or simply agree with her, Clarke was unsure. The only thing she did know was that this situation had turned far more awkward than she'd ever expected. And that Octavia was incredibly displeased.

"I've got a lot of work to do. Thanks for the brush, Clarke," She turned and walked back to her dorm through the bathroom.

"You didn't take your cake!" Harper called after her, trailing off as the door shut firmly. Clarke felt her stomach twist.

"I'm sorry. She's temperamental," Bellamy said. "Always has been."

Clarke wasn't sure who Bellamy was talking to, but no one replied.

"No matter," Harper said. "I'll just bring her one when I go back over."

"Good idea. Let's sit down then,"

Bellamy flopped down in Clarke's desk chair, and she didn't know whether she felt relieved or disappointed he didn't sit beside her on the bed. She settled on the former as she watched Raven give Bellamy an eye.

Clarke took a bite of her cake and tried not to choke on it when Harper asked;

"So, what's with your change of plans, Raven? Is everything alright with Finn?"

Clarke kept her eyes on her plate and tried to slow her heart as it started to thump in her chest.

"Oh, I don't know. He's been a pain in the ass lately," Raven said dismissively.

"I'm sorry to hear. Finn seemed so nice when I met him on, what day was that? The day we went to the party. Was it Saturday?" Harper mused, unaware of the effect her words were having on Clarke, who could hardly breath.

Saturday.

The party.

Finn.

Her skin felt hot, her throat too small for air for the air to make it to her lungs, much less swallow the mouthful of cake.

"You know what? It's been ever since that party!" Raven exclaimed. "I don't even remember what happened, but something must've. I think I passed out."

"Yeah, you did," Harper giggled at the memory.

"You think maybe I said something? Or did something I didn't mean to? I was so out of it," Raven groaned.

Clarke was frozen. She prayed that neither of the girls looked at her face. She knew she was as white as a sheet, having felt all the blood drain from her face at the start of this conversation.

"I don't know. What could you have even said, like, another boy's name?" Harper suggested.

"Ugh. I haven't talked to another boy like that for years," Raven groaned. "I think he's just being an idiot."

"Yeah, boys'll do that," Bellamy jumped into the conversation with the loud statement. Clarke knew he was trying to help, but he clearly wasn't sure how.

"You know, one time, I was talking to this girl, and then I didn't want to talk to her anymore, so I uh, I just stopped responding when she would text or call me. Just because I could."

"Kind of a dick move, Blake," Raven said, frowning at him.

"Yeah, but I guess it's just the way guys are sometimes," Bellamy added. Clarke heard the chair squeak as he shifted his weight.

Harper cleared her throat and said, "Well, thanks for the cake, Clarke. It was fantastic."

Clarke managed to look up and give her a smile. Her throat still felt too tight for words.

"I'd better get back to work. And I'll bring this to Octavia," Harper retreated, extra slice in hand..

"Thanks Harper. Tell O I'll talk to her later," Bellamy called after her. "Clarke, what should we do with the rest of this cake?"

Clarke looked up to meet his gentle gaze. She still feared her eyes would well over if she tried to talk. Luckily, Bellamy picked up the slack.

"I was thinking, as much as I hate them, we could offer a piece to Jasper and Monty, just so it doesn't go to waste. It is a big cake."

Clarke nodded and stood.

"Mind if I keep another piece? For later?" Raven asked.

"No, go for it." Bellamy said.

"Thanks. Eating always helps you get through boy troubles, doesn't it Clarke?"

"Y-yeah," Clarke managed, only because her back was to her roommate.

"Let's take this downstairs quick." Bellamy scooped up the cake and nodded Clarke towards the door. "Nice seeing you again, Raven," He said over his shoulder.

"You too, Blake. I'm sure I'll see you around here more. And Clarke, let me know if you're going to be held up." Clarke could hear the teasing in Raven's voice and flipped her off over the shoulder as she left. Even if Raven made her wholey uncomfortable every time she spoke of Finn, she was still a good friend, ever eager to tease. And it wasn't as if she was wrenching Clarke apart on purpose.

"Thanks," Clarke breathed as soon as Bellamy had shut them out of the room.

"Of course, Princess," he said breezily.

**AN_**

**Another chapter! **

**How's is everyone doing today? I have two weeks left of school, then I'm on summer break! (Even though it already sort of feels like summer break because I haven't been to an actual class in almost two months, and I'm actually going to be busier in the summer than I was during the school year, but that's not the point!). Good luck to everyone who is still in school for the rest of the year, I know you'll ****finish**** strong. **

**Thank you for the reviews on the previous chapter, they mean the world to me. I've gotten more than a couple of people wishing Clarke would spill the beans to Raven. (looking at you, GinnyWeasley09, lol . your reviews make me smile ****every time****) You will be happy to know I just finished writing that scene. You'll have to wait a few more chapters, but it is coming, I promise. The reviews did help me plan it out better, so I hope it will be everything you've been looking for.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Birch66724**


	18. Chapter 18

"Yep, text you later," Bellamy said, watching Clarke walk away. She'd rolled her eyes as she insisted she didn't need an escort back to her room.

"Damn, you've got it bad," Jasper said with a smirk.

"Shut up, Jasper," Bellamy muttered, shutting the door. His two roommates were sitting on the spare mattress, eating their cake.

"Nothin' to be ashamed of. Everyone needs a little college romance." Jasper wiggled his brows, and despite himself, Bellamy felt his heart tick a bit faster.

"It's not like that," He said firmly, sweeping cake crumbs from his desk into the trash bin.

"Oh, more like a friends with benefits type of thing?" Jasper pressed.

"No!" Bellamy snapped, fixing him with a glare.

"O-kay pal," Jasper leaned back into the wall. "If I were you though, I'd snatch her up. This cake is the bomb."

Monty snorted at that and then looked peevishly at Bellamy, conveying a silent apology for friend's directness.

"What about you two then? Where's your college romance?" Bellamy challenged.

"Oh, sorry Bellamy, I'm a taken man."

"Yeah? Who?"

"Her name's Maya. She's back at home, though."

"So, it's not a college romance, then?" Jasper frowned.

"It will be. Next year, once she comes to college. She's still a senior in highschool," he said.

"Ohhh," Bellamy flopped down on his bed. "I see."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jasper challenged. Bellamy propped up on an elbow. He hadn't expected the boy with the chemistry goggles constantly glued to his forehead to take such a stance over his girlfriend. Although he knew he shouldn't, Bellamy could'nt help but give him a little grief, after everything Jasper put him through on a nightly basis.

"I dunno. Just, you, being here, and this Maya being, where are you from again?" Bellamy knew the answer to the question, but he asked it anyway, trying to get a rise from the boy. It worked.

"LaCrosse, Wisconsin," Jasper said harshly.

"Ohh, yeah! What's that, like three hours away?"

"Two hours and forty five minutes, if you go 70 on the interstate."

"Okay. But still, quite a ways. How often can you guys see each other? Seems like one of you might get a little lonely, you know-"

"If you're suggesting that I would cheat on my girlfriend-"

Bellamy interrupted him. "No! I would never! It was just a thought."

"Hmpf." Jasper made a displeased noise.

"But you know, if Maya ever does get a little lonely, feel free to give her my phone number." It was Bellamy's turn to smirk at Jasper, who by this point had caught on that Bellamy was only pulling his leg.

"Oh, go off yourself Bellamy," Jasper jeered, struggling to maintain his harsh tone.

"I'll consider it." Bellamy yawned through the words, laying back down.

"Okay, let me know what you decide. I've got work to do." Jasper stood and walked out of the room without another word.

Monty stood, seeming as if to follow his friend, but paused at the door, glancing back to Bellamy.

"Hey, um Bellamy?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

"Your sister, and uh, do you know what her roommate's name is?" Although Monty's olive skin hid the blush in his cheeks, his fidgeting hands gave away his embarrassment at asking the question.

Bellamy smiled at the boy. "Harper. I can get her phone number for you, if you want?"

"Oh! Uh, I would, but don't you think that'd be a little weird? Wouldn't she wonder where I'd gotten it from? What if that made her think I was some kind of stalker or something?"

"You've got a point," Bellamy agreed. "But yeah, Harper. She's a real nice girl. Perfect for your college romance." Bellamy scoffed at the idea.

"Harper," Monty repeated. "Thanks Bellamy. And tell Clarke thanks again for the cake!" He said in a rush, shutting himself into the bathroom.

" 'Course." Bellamy yawned again. Too many late nights and long days were catching up with him as he neared the end of the week.

There was only one more thing he needed to do before turning in early for the night: talk to Octavia. There was something going on with her, something that went beyond her typical stubbornness.

Bellamy didn't want to go back upstairs and knock on her door. Harper, Clarke and Raven were all bound to be right there, chatting as girls were prone to do. That also left out calling her on the phone too.

So, there was only one other option. He sent her a quick text and hoped she would respond in a civil manner.

B: Want to come down to my room so we can catch up?

It took a few moments before she replied.

O: Sure thing Dad. See you in 10.

Bellamy groaned. She wasn't going to drop her position that Bellamy was far too involved in her life anytime soon.

It was seventeen minutes before she showed up, and Bellamy was still laying on his bed, watching an ESPN countdown on his phone when she let herself in.

"What'cha want, Bell?"

"Hey. I just wanted to talk to you." He sat up as Octavia leaned against the wall right inside the door.

"Well, I wanted to talk to you, too." Bellamy nodded for her to continue. She took a deep breath and began, pressing her fingertips together in front of her chest.

"First of all, I just want to have an adult conversation with you," she began.

"I would like nothing better," Bellamy said smoothly, recognising the irony of those words coming out of Octavia's mouth.

"I don't want you to treat me like your daughter, or someone that you need to protect. I am an adult. I can take care of myself. I go to school, and I got a job now, so I don't need any more of that state pension money we got from mom. I opened my own bank account now. I want to be free to make my own decisions and I would appreciate it if you stayed out of my business from now on." She tipped her nose in the air, looking satisfied at the delivery of her obviously pre prepared speech.

Bellamy stared at his little sister for a moment. He knew she craved nothing more than independence. She had from a young age, but until now, she wasn't capable of surviving without guidance.

She still isn't. Bellamy grappled with the voice inside his own head. Octavia was still his little sister. She would always be, and he would always be her older brother, her protector. Could he really just- let her go? Relinquish his position in her life, just like that?

"Bellamy?" She interrupted his thoughts, leaning forwards with a slight frown on her lips.

"Uh, yeah." He said, trying to keep his face free from his conflicting emotions.

"So, you're okay with that, then?" She stood straighter, the tone of her voice edging on disbelief.

"I mean, no," he said honestly. Octavia's face started to darken. "But, I realize how I might be a little too overprotective at times. I suppose…"

"You suppose…?" she prodded.

Bellamy was torn. Was this what it was like to be a parent? He was only five years older than Octavia, but still…

"I suppose I ought to let you go your separate way," Bellamy said, watching as Octavia's face brightened. "But I will always be your big brother."

"Of course, you would never let me forget it!" She said, throwing her arms around Bellamy's neck, giving him the first genuine hug in months. Bellamy couldn't even remember the last time Octavia had willingly embraced him.

As she pulled away, Bellamy smiled a little bit and joked, "My little girl, all grown up." Octavia wrinkled her nose at that, but it didn't dampen her spirit.

"Okay, now that we got that settled, you can let Clarke know she doesn't have to keep making excuses for you to follow her upstairs."

Bellamy felt his stomach do a little drop. "I uh, yeah. I guess I can." He scratched the back of his neck.

"So you admit to using her!" Octavia cried, pointing a finger at him. The tone of her voice was accusatory, but she was still smiling.

"Um, no," Bellamy said slowly. "Some of the times we really did just bump into each other." He thought that would be a safe answer. He didn't know what Clarke had told Octavia.

"Hmm," Octavia said, sitting on the edge of the desk. Her phone chimed in her back pocket. She pulled it out and smiled at something she read.

"Who's that from?" Bellamy asked.

"None of your business," She said, with just a touch of her usual snippiness.

"Okay, then," Bellamy said, forcing the words out, trying to comply with Octavia's request.

"Wow, that's a first!" She praised him, setting her phone down. "I think this is going to be good, for the both of us. Now that you won't spend all of your time helicopter-parenting me, you could accomplish so much more."

Bellamy chuckled. "I didn't before?"

"No," she clarified, "But Bell, we both know you never really had a social life. You were either at school or working or minding after me or mom. But now, you only have school, and just a little bit of mom, so you could go join a club! They have some really good intramural sports. I think you have to try out, but I know you could get on a have dodgeball! You loved dodgeball in high school!"

Bellamy rolled his eyes. He hadn't played dodgeball in probably eight years.

"I'm serious! You should look into it. Some of them have tryouts this weekend."

"We'll see," Bellamy said.

"Okay. Let me know then. Maybe we could come watch you tryout."

"We?"

"Yeah- me and uh, Harper." Octavia looked guilty. Bellamy frowned at her, but she turned and grabbed her phone off the desk and made for the door. As much as Bellamy wanted to demand she explain herself, he reminded himself for the second time in the past minute that she should be able to live her own life. It was time.

"Okay, goodnight Bell!" Octavia chirped, slipping out the door. Bellamy looked at the closed door with a strange mixture of apprehension and relief. The truth was, Bellamy hadn't been nearly as attentive to Octavia as usual this past week, preoccupied with Clarke as he was. It gave him a bit of hope that she had gone disaster free for a week without his constant guidance.

Except for the party.

That could have been the biggest disaster of her life. Instead, it was Clarke who received the short end of the stick on that one. It was a sick thought that crept into Bellamy's head, that he would rather it have been Clarke than Octavia, and the second he thought it, he physically recoiled. It was an absolutely wretched thing to think. Who knew how different the situation could be, but Bellamy was committed to helping Clarke in whatever way he could.

He smiled softly as he mused that Clarke had filled in the space that Octavia had vacated. Clarke needed him now. At least, Bellamy hoped she did. If there was one thing Bellamy realized about himself, it was that he worked better when he had someone else to look after and take care of.

The main difference between Clarke and Octavia was that Bellamy didn't feel like a parent towards Clarke, or even like an older brother. He felt like her confidant, her protector, her friend. And, growing in the back of Bellamy's mind, were some feelings that would definitely not be conducive with being her brother.

**AN_**

**I love dodgeball. ;) Should be fun...!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Birch66724**


	19. Chapter 19

"Wait, where are you going, Octavia?" Harper asked.

"Out," Octavia answered lightly, leaning forward in the bathroom mirror until her forehead practically touched the glass.

Harper, clearly not satisfied with that answer, asked again. "Where are you going, Octavia? Someone ought to know where you are, just in case."

Octavia gave an exaggerated groan and turned around. "Hodge's Bend."

"Where's that?"

"It's on University Ave. Look, Harper, I'm not going to get wasted, I'm meeting a _friend."_

Clarke was a quiet observer of her roommates' conversation, sitting on her bed with her Human Physiology textbook open in her lap, skimming over the first section.

"Well, just, be careful," Harper finally said.

"Of course, Mom," Octavia drawled. "I'm starting to think Bellamy put you up to this interrogation."

"He did not! I'm just concerned, is all," Harper protested.

"Okay." Octavia's voice still held an air or skepticism. "I'll text you when I'm on the way home."

"Thank you."

"G'night Clarke, Raven." Octavia's hand waved through the bathroom door.

"Have fun," Clarke said. Raven only grunted. Octavia was gone with a firmly closed door and a final well wish from Harper.

The blond girl came into Clarke and Raven's dorm with an exasperated look, sitting down heavily on Clarke's bed. Her hair was loose from its braid, falling around her face, making her look tired.

"I appreciate that you care, even if Octavia doesn't." Clarke smiled kindly at Harper. It was the whole-hearted truth. It warmed Clarke to know that Harper cared deeply enough to be concerned. It may save her someday…

"Thanks, Clarke." Harper rested her head on the wall, shutting her eyes for a moment. Clarke looked back to her reading. Raven was still an immobil lump under her quilt. Clarke was concerned, but she couldn't bring herself to ask what was wrong for fear it would be about Finn. Clarke wasn't sure she could control her facial expression through a conversation of how Finn was being a terrible boyfriend. She darkly hoped they would break up.

A few moments passed before Harper spoke up.

"Who knew college would be so _exhausting?_"

"I'll say," Clarke agreed. It was 9 PM on Friday night. Clarke had gone to class without incident today, spent her afternoon in the library, then had supper in the dining hall with Harper and Octavia. They were joined by Monty, who seemed to have a keen interest in Harper. Clarke had smiled through the whole meal, asking questions that made Harper and Monty talk to one another, like, '_Where do you want to move after you graduate?' _or '_Does anyone want to go play grocery bingo tomorrow night?' _They had both readily agreed to the latter question, exchanged phone numbers, and planned to meet up on Saturday in the basement.

Clarke was rather pleased with her matchmaking skills, and the pair of them were adorably shy.

"Raven, can you even breath in there?" Harper asked and the bundle of blankets shifted. Raven's head poked out and her eyes blinked blearily. Her hair was staticy, either stuck to her face or sticking straight out, and her face was red from where it had been pressed into her sweatshirt sleeve.

"Yeah," she mumbled miserably, head head plopping back down.

"Aww, what's the matter?" Harper said softly. Clarke tried to steal herself for the conversation that would follow, but thankfully, Raven didn't seem to want to talk about it.

"I'm fine," she said, emerging like a butterfly from its cocoon.

"Mmm." Harper frowned as she considered Raven, now sitting on the edge of her bed, bare feet skimming the floor.

Clarke took a deep breath and closed her textbook, apparently harder than she intended, garnering the attention of the two girls.

"Sorry," she said, feeling her face flush. "I just- I'm really really tired of digestion and absorption."

Raven wrinkled her nose. "Ew, that does sound terrible."

"Well, want to do something? We could watch a movie, or play a game, or- oh! Clarke I could repaint your nails!" Harper seized Clarke's hand as she reached over her to place the textbook on her desk. "How'd you even manage to get all that polish off in a week?"

Clarke withdrew her hand, looking disdainfully at her chipped nails. She had obsessively scratched all of the pink polish over the past few days. Not only did she hate having painted nails, she disliked the color pink, and they served as a constant reminder to that night.

"I picked at them," she said truthfully. Nothing would be covered up by lying. "I'm not a huge fan of fingernail polish."

"Me neither," Raven agreed. She was bent over her end table, draped in a blanket. Her hair was a mess, more out of her bun than in.

"Really? I mean, I can get why you don't like it, but- I guess it just makes me feel feminine, you know?" Harper prattled as she flexed her hand in front of her, admiring the skillfully painted blue polish.

"Sure. But I don't need to feel pretty when I go to robotics class." Raven said, holding her hands up like claws. "It'd get all chipped on the aluminum alloy gearbox brackets. You really have to get your fingers in there to tighten the KEPS nuts to the gussets."

"I'm not even going to pretend I know what that means," Harper said. They all shared a good, spirit lifting laugh.

"I vote to watch a movie," Raven said, dragging her quilt across the floor and hopping onto Clarke's bed.

"Oh, so we're doing this in _my _bed?" Clarke said, scooting down to make room for Raven, who sat on her pillow.

"Yep." Raven said, tugging the pillow out from under her and whacking Clarke in the face with it.

"Oo, I have popcorn!" Harper said, sliding off the bed and scampering into her side of the dorm. Clarke leaned over and grabbed her laptop, setting it on the pillow on her lap. Harper returned and the three girls sat shoulder to shoulder on the bed, their feet hanging off the edge.

Clarke pulled up Netflix in her browser, and let Harper scroll through the movies.

"Wait, there is a _To All the Boys I've Loved Before 2?" _Raven said, pointing to the screen.

"I didn't even know there was a _To All the Boys I've Loved Before 1," _Clarke said.

"Yeah, you didn't know that?" Harper asked, ignoring Clarke's comment.

Raven shook her head, "I mean, I read the book, but-"

Clarke interrupted her with a surprised look. "Raven Reyes, the mechanical engineering student, reads _teen romance novels?" _

Raven had the dignity to glance away, and faint blush glowing behind her tanned skin.

"I went through a phase," she mumbled.

Clarke chuckled and Harper joined in. "I didn't see that coming," she agreed.

"Stop bullying me!" Raven cried, holding back her embarrassed laughter and grabbed the computer from Clarke's lap.

"Hey!"

"We're watching it, I don't even care," Raven said, clicking on the movie.

"But I haven't even seen the first one!"

"Too bad." Raven sat back against the wall with a thump.

Harper told Clarke, "You really don't need to watch them in order, they're pretty shallow."

"They are _not!" _Raven cried indignantly, sitting forward and fixing Harper with a glare.

"Are too. They don't exactly require a lot of _brain power _to comprehend." Raven glowered and Harper quickly continued. "That's not to say they aren't good in their own right, as a fun, relaxing film."

"Whatever." Raven flopped backwards again. "Gimme some of that popcorn."

"Say please," Harper insisted with a smile.

"_Pretty please," _Raven replied in a mocking tone and then started giggling, unable to maintain her angry facade. They all laughed again and passed the bag of popcorn back and forth, watching the movie. They chatted over it most of the first half, and even then, Clarke managed to grasp most of the plot.

Clarke was content, snuggled on her bed in between two of her best friends. She was able to drop the weight she was carting around, following last weekend's events, and just be a carefree college freshman, enjoying a night in with her roommates.

Part way through the movie, her phone vibrated with a text. Clarke flipped it up just long enough it was from Bellamy, before turning it face down in her lap. She couldn't exactly reply to him without Harper or Raven overseeing her conversation, sitting as close to her as they were.

Harper had dozed off as soon as their conversation waned, while Raven sat rapt, watching the film intently. Clarke considered turning her phone away to see what Bellamy had to say. She figured he was just checking in, as they hadn't spoken since this morning, but then her mind started drifting towards the _what ifs. _What if Octavia got into trouble? _But why would he text Clarke? _What if he needed help with something? What if something was wrong?

Clarke knew none of her thoughts were probable, but she still thought them. She didn't let herself look at her phone though. Not yet. The movie was nearly over and Harper was drooling onto Clarke's quilt.

"The book was _way _better," Raven declared, slapping shut the computer with a resounding clap that started both Clarke and Harper. They both jumped, with Harper hitting her head on Clarke's elbow.

"The hell-" Harper slurred, rubbing her bruised cranium as she sat up.

"Raven!" Clarke scolded, recovering from her slight shock as she reached out to cradle Harper's head. "So sorry, Harp. Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Harper mumbled, frowning at Raven across the bed.

"Sorry dears," Raven said ruefully, sliding off Clarke's bed. "I'm going to sleep. Thanks for the popcorn, Harper."

"Yeah." Harper still seemed groggy. Clarke leaned back to get a better look at the girl. How hard had she hit her head?

As soon as Harper realized Clarke's critical gaze, she straightened up and stopped rubbing her head. "I'm fine, Dr. Griffin." She smiled and pushed off Clarke to get to her feet.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, just makes my head all foggy if I nap," Harper explained, picking up her phone from where it had fallen to the floor as she disentangled herself from the nest of blankets. "Octavia says, '_I'm here at Hodge's Bend, don't worry mom, my friend will give me a ride home afterwards. See you in the morning.'"_

"Hmm." Clarke said and Raven gave a muffled, "Cool."

"I hope she knows that I probably won't sleep until she gets home," Harper muttered, sliding her phone into her pocket.

"She'll be fine," Raven mumbled.

Clarke, on the other hand, was glad for Harper's protectiveness. "It's nice that you care. Everyone needs to have someone looking out for them."

"_Thank you Clarke," _Harper said, sticking her tongue out at Raven, who didn't see the gesture through her closed eyes.

"Of course. And don't worry, I'll do the same for you, when you go out," Clarke confirmed, standing and sweeping popcorn crumbs from her bed.

Harper scoffed. "I'm not much one for a night at the bar."

"Couldn't've guessed,." Raven chided goodnaturedly.

"Either way, I'll do it," Clarke said, changing Harper's frown at Raven into a warm smile.

"Thanks, Clarke. At least I know I have _someone _who cares about my wellbeing."

Raven spoke up, "I care, just in my own way."

"Sure, sure," Harper said breezily. "I'm going to get ready for bed."

"Goodnight," Clarke told her as she shut the bathroom door.

Finally, with Harper gone back to her room, and Raven passed out in her bed, Clarke opened Bellamy's message.

_B: Do you know where Octavia is? I told her I would leave her alone, but I'm worried. She won't answer me._

_B: Also, how was your afternoon/evening? I had chicken in the dining hall but I don't think it was chicken…_

Clarke felt Bellamy's concern for his little sister bleeding through the pixelated words on her screen, then his touch of humor brightened things up a shade or two.

_C: Sorry it took so long to respond. I was watching a movie with Harp and Rav. Octavia said she was going out with a friend, didn't say who though._

Clarke felt weird as she pressed send on the message, like she was betraying Octavia's trust by telling Bellamy her plans. The feeling had subconsciously prevented her from telling the location of the bar, something Clarke hadn't even realized until she saw the icon of Bellamy typing his response.

_B: Oh, okay. Those sound like some code names, What were you really doing, Princess?_

_C: I'll never tell. But I'll let you know when Octavia gets home, I'm sure she'll wake us all up._

_B: Yeah she was never one for subtlety. _

_C: It's alright, not like I sleep most of the time anyways._

As soon as Clarke sent the message, she regretted it. She knew Bellamy would be quick with a concerned response..

_B: Are you still not sleeping? I'm sorry Clarke._

She was right.

_C: No, I'm fine. It's been getting a lot better lately actually. _

_B: You sure? If I found out you lied to get me off your back Princess... There will be unrest in your kingdom. _

_C: yeah yeah. I'll be sure to call for my knight in shining armour should I need anything. _

_B: Good. You going to bingo tomorrow? Sounds like it could be fun?_

_C: I was planning on it. Who doesn't like free food? Plus, someone has to keep an eye on Harper and Monty._

_B: Harper and Monty?_

_C: You don't know about that? _

_B: Guess not. Monty mentioned something to me the other day, but I didn't think he'd have the balls to actually talk to her._

_C: Ye of little faith! So long as there is someone there to keep the conversation moving, they are fine. And so adorable._

_B: Adorable, huh?_

_C: What can I say, I'm a sucker for a cute couple._

_B: Clarke Griffin, a real romantic! Never would've guessed it._

_C: Shows how much you know! _

_B: I know a lot of things_

_C: Yeah?_

_B: Yep. I even know how to bake a German Chocolate Cake._

_C: Got me beat on that front, then, I'm a terrible baker._

_B: Oh really? I think Jasper would beg to differ. He devoured the rest of that cake, then proclaimed his love for you._

_C: How sweet of him. He seems like a nice boy. Would you mind giving him my number? I've been trying to find a man who would appreciate my gifts and put me, as a woman, in my rightful place; the kitchen._

Clarke swore she heard Bellamy laughing through the floor after that message.

_B: I'll let him know._

_C: Thanks. Next time, we ought to just do this in person. My fingers are cramping up._

_B: Totally agree. See you tomorrow for grocery bingo?_

_C: You're on. Goodnight, Bellamy._

_B: Goodnight, Princess._

**AN_**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing! Have a great day.**

**-Birch66724**


	20. Chapter 20

_C: She's home. Now go to sleep. _

_B: Yes ma'am. Thanks Clarke. _

Bellamy rolled over in bed after glancing at the time: 2:27 am. He was slightly irritated but more than a little relieved after receiving Clarke's text. She had kept her word and informed him about his sister's whereabouts, but it was unfair of Bellamy to even ask.

_My sister, my responsibility. _The old motto ran its way through Bellamy's tired brain. He wasn't sure he could back off from Octavia completely like this, she was too- too what? Too impulsive and naive, too stubborn and bold and confident. She was barely 18 and had the whole world at her feet, something Bellamy was sworn to protect for her. He had already seen what one bad night could do to a girl…

* * *

"Do you think we should wake him up? He's been sleeping for an awfully long time."

"I don't know… Maybe we should just let him sleep."

"What? Scared he'll be mad at you?"

"Yeah, kinda."

"Okay. Glad I'm not the only one, then."

"But if we don't wake him up, there is no way we'll get to the-"

"Get to the what?" Bellamy said harshly, opening his eyes just in time to see Monty and Jasper scamper backwards, tripping over one another.

"Ah, good morning chief," Jasper said with a little wave. Monty offered a tightlipped smile, his eyes darting away.

"What'cha want?" Bellamy asked as his mouth spread in a wide yawn.

"Uh- just to- check in on you?" Jasper said lightly.

"What?" Bellamy wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. "Is something wrong?"

"Not exactly," Monty said slowly, getting Bellamy's heart jumping in his chest. He flung back his blankets and sat up.

"What's wrong, spit it out!" He growled at Monty, feeling only slightly guilty as the smaller boy flinched away. _Was it Octavia? Has something happened? Was Clarke okay?_

Monty hesitated only a second before his words spilled from his mouth as a gush of syllables. "Octavia has been telling Harper to text me to tell you that you need to wake up and get ready. And then once Jasper heard about it, he wanted to go too, so now I guess I'm going, but really they just want you to go. And it starts in a half hour."

Bellamy stared at Monty blankly for a second before Jasper clarified.

"Intramural dodgeball tryouts! They start at two."

"Dodgeball? Two? Two AM?" Bellamy's brain was still fuzzy around the edges. It was too early for this.

"Two PM," Monty corrected, looking down at the digital watch on his wrist. "Twenty-eight minutes from now."

Things slid into place in Bellamy's mind. He snatched his phone off the nightstand, startled at the nearly 30 messages he had received since he had fallen asleep. Nearly 11 hours ago.

"Why'd you let me sleep so long?" He said to no one in particular, jumping from his warm bed.

"I didn't know you wanted us to wake you up," Monty said lightly.

"Sorry," Jasper said, stepping back as Bellamy moved through the room, flipping on the light and pulling open the blinds.

"No, I-" Bellamy paused, carding his hand through his curls. He opened his phone. Twenty-four of the messages were from Octavia. They were all from over the past four hours, variations of the same idea that Bellamy needed to wake up, text her back, she was coming with him to his dodgeball tryouts, get ready to leave, why wasn't he up yet?, she was coming down there, et cetera, et cetera.

Bellamy groaned and quickly told her he was up.

The remaining four messages were from Clarke. It made his heart rate spike, seeing the little red 4 beside her name. She had never sent him more than one message at a time. Had she needed something while Bellamy was stupidly sleeping the day away? He slid up on her name and scanned the messages.

_C: Of course._

_C: Do you always sleep this late? _

_C: Octavia won't stop pestering about this dodgeball thing. I didn't know you were going out for intramurals!_

_C: Octavia is coming down there if you don't reply to her in 2 minutes. Fair warning._

Only slightly relieved after reading the last message, timestamped one minute ago, Bellamy typed a quick three word response to Clarke and tossed his phone to his bed.

Monty and Jasper were still standing in his room, watching him with wide eyes. They were both dressed in what Bellamy assumed to be their understanding of athletic clothes. Neither of them appeared to be the type to exercise per say.

"Want to borrow some shorts?" Bellamy asked suggestively, nodding at Jasper's khaki cargos and Monty's navy blue sweatpants. The boys looked down at their pants, then at each other, then at Bellamy in perfect unison. It was almost comical how in sync they were.

"You do. You definitely do," Bellamy said decisively, digging out three pairs of basketball shorts, tossing his only pair of size mediums to Jasper. Monty would have to make do with a large.

Bellamy had no more than changed and given his teeth a quick brush when he heard someone pounding on his dorm room door. He inwardly groaned, but thanked Clarke that he had at least a couple minutes of warning.

"Bellamy? Let me in!" Octavia yelled as Bellamy undid the lock. The door swung open, narrowly missing Bellamy's bare feet, and slammed into the wall.

"Goodmorning, O."

"Morning? It's way past noon!" Octavia frowned at him, then her face turned into a glare as she accused him; "You forgot! You completely forgot! I told you we were going to go to this dodgeball thing, and you forgot."

"Slipped my mind," Bellamy mumbled, noticing for the first time the girls in the hall behind Octavia. The whole crew was there, Clarke smiling at him, Raven looking thoughtfully at something on the floor, and Harper turning to greet Jasper or, mainly, Monty, as they exited their own door.

"Ugh." Octavia made a noise and grabbed Bellamy's arm, dragging him into the hall.

"Wait, let me get my shoes." Bellamy wanted to be irritated at his little sister ordering him around, but with Clarke standing right behind her, his mood brightened considerably.

Seconds later, Bellamy was hopping down the hall, trying to get his second tennis shoe over his heel, following the motley group towards the elevator.

"What are you all doing here?" Bellamy asked, stomping his foot to the floor, settling his shoe into place.

"Are you trying out for the team?" Monty asked, somewhat hopefully.

"Heck no!" Harper was quick to say.

"I wasn't going to miss out on the chance to see some people get hit in the face with balls," Raven joked.

"That's what she said!" Jasper said loudly and Monty snickered. Harper made an appalled face, but her eyes were smiling at the two boys.

"I just had nothing better to do," Clarke said easily. She had found her way to Bellamy's side and stayed there as they all stepped into the elevator.

"And I had to come to make sure you went." Octavia slapped Bellamy on the back and he frowned at her.

"Why do you want me to play dodgeball so bad?"

"Because you love dodgeball!" She said, as if the answer was completely obvious. Bellamy had a suspicious feeling about Octavia's motives, but he tried not to think about it. What would it be anyway? It was hard to think in the crowded elevator anyhow, what with Jasper starting to argue with Raven about RAM on his phone, Monty and Harper talking in hushed tones, and Clarke standing right beside him. He glanced down at her, hoping she was feeling alright in the elevator, surrounded by friends as she was. He wasn't sure, as she only stared straight ahead at the sealed doors, her blond waves covering part of her face.

She was the first to exit the car as it came to a halt on the first floor, everyone else tumbling out behind her.

"You know where we're going, O?" Bellamy asked his sister, who nodded confidently, leading the way outside.

"Recreation center."

"The University Recreation and Wellness Center?" Jasper recited like he was a campus tour guide.

"_Yes_."

"We only have 20 minutes to get there." Monty said in a tone edging on nervousness.

"Relax. We'll be fine," Octavia said, turning around and walking backwards, drawling her words out at the boy. He looked a bit intimidated and Bellamy was amused. "It's only like, half a mile."

Octavia led the way and they fell into pairs behind her on the sidewalk. Monty and Harper followed right after her, and Bellamy saw that Clarke did have a point. They did look pretty cute, what with Harper giggling and turning her face away as Monty flashed a pleased grin whenever he succeeded in making her laugh. Raven and Jasper were still in a heated conversation about phone storage, so wrapped up in technological terms and acronyms they hardly noticed where they were going.

That left Bellamy and Clarke to bring up the rear of the group. Bellamy turned and looked at Clarke, noticing her soft smile as she watched her friends.

"It's nice for Raven to be able to argue with someone who actually understands what she's talking about," Clarke said, noticing Bellamy's attention on her.

Bellamy chuckled softly. "Good for Jasper, too. I'm sure he hasn't talked to anyone besides Monty since he came to the U of M."

"Hmm. But hey!" Clarke spoke up, whacking Bellamy on the shoulder with the back of her hand, "When were you going to tell me about this whole dodgeball thing?"

Bellamy rubbed his shoulder. "Ouch." Clarke rolled her eyes at him. "To be honest, I didn't even know I was going to go through with this until-" He checked his wrist for a watch that didn't exist. "- nine minutes ago."

"Bellamy!" Clarke giggled. "The way Octavia made it sound, it seemed like you've had your heart set on playing intramural dodgeball since the day you were born."

"I mean, I suppose I have. There's nothing quite like throwing balls. And catching balls. And getting hit with balls... You know, I think I've changed my mind." Bellamy stopped in his tracks.

Clarke laughed, reaching back and grabbing him by the wrist, securly looping her arm through his, as if to keep him right by her side. Bellamy was pleasantly surprised by her action, especially when she didn't drop her arm back to her side, but left it there, loosely clutching his bicep as they continued down the sidewalk. Bellamy marvelled at the fact that this was the first time he remembered Clarke initiating contact between them when she wasn't in a state of distress. Was it that she was recovering from her experience, or that she just felt so at ease with Bellamy she was comfortable doing it?

They didn't speak the rest of the way, but Bellamy didn't mind. The sun was warm on his face and it was catching in Clarke's hair, making it glow like a golden crown around her head. The wispy strands brushed against his arm and neck, teased by the wind. It tickled, but Bellamy didn't want Clarke any farther away. She felt just so _right _on his arm, walking like they were a couple.

The feeling ended all too soon, with Clarke dropping his arm as they arrived at the front of the complex. It was an impressive building that Bellamy had been to a few times before. He wanted to get back into his workout routine, but things had just been so hectic this first week of school. Besides, the first time he was planning to go, Clarke was baking a cake. The choice between the two activities was nonexistent really.

Raven, _ever observant Raven_, caught Bellamy's eye as Clarke caught up to her. He knew Clarke's roommate had her suspicions about the pair of them. Bellamy wasn't going to confirm nor deny any questions she might ask. Perhaps it would be a protection to Clarke, if Raven thought they were dating?

She didn't look upset or disapproving. If anything, she looked faintly amused as she gave Bellamy a wink and turned, her long ponytail swishing behind her as she held the door open for Clarke, who was rushing ahead, her attention caught by something.

Bellamy paused a moment as he was apprehensive. Maybe he shouldn't let Raven go on believing something that wasn't true?

"Hurry up Bell!" Octavia jarred him from his musings. "You need to sign in at this table or something."

Bellamy jogged into the building and across the foyer, feeling the rush of air conditioning wash over his body from the large vents above the door.

"This is an awfully big room to be run on a mini-split system," Raven commented, much to Jasper's disagreement. He looked up from the registration table and shot a glare at her.

Bellamy was quick to tune out their second geek argument and focus instead on the clipboard thrust into his hands. He started to fill out the basic information with Octavia hovering at his shoulder. Harper got Jasper back on track with his registration form, chiding Raven for engaging him. Raven smugly grinned and folded her arms over her chest.

A moment after Bellamy handed the completed form back to the guy behind the table, they were approached by a pair of guys.

"Hey, did you guys know you need to have a five person team to get into the gym?" A young man asked, the question clearly directed at Bellamy. Bellamy had noticed over the years that people always gravitated towards him as the natural leader of whatever group he was in.

"Oh. Guess not." Bellamy, straightening up, glancing around at his sundry crew. Jasper and Monty were hovering behind him, and the girls were loosely grouped around a table a dozen yards from where they were.

The man shrugged. "We didn't either."

"Get to the point, Miller," The second guy spoke up, pushing the first man to the side and asking, "Do you want to join up or not?"

Bellamy was slightly taken aback by his brusque tone, but appreciated his directness. He turned and glanced back at the pair behind him. Monty was looking hesitantly at the guy, but Jasper nodded his head.

"Sure," Bellamy said.

"Great," The second guy said, sounding bored. "I'm Murphy. John Murphy. And this idiot is Nate Miller."

Miller glared at Murphy and said, "Glad to have you. We'd better get going though, we'll have time for introductions later."

Bellamy nodded and followed him as he started down the corridor, towards the gymnasium. They walked past the girls, who looked up and followed along. Harper and Octavia were in a fit about something, giggling and slumping into each other. Bellamy raised a brow at Clarke in question. Her only response was a good-nature eyeroll and a friendly shove to Octavia, who had bumped into her.

Then, Bellamy watched Clarke's face shift. He followed her gaze to see her eyes locked on Murphy, who was walking ahead of him. She looked confused, then concerned as she watched him, and Bellamy dropped back to be beside her. He wanted to be there, just in case something had upset her.

"I'm fine," Clarke quickly clarified, upon Bellamy's arrival.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to press the issue or not. Clarke's feelings were a sensitive subject and Bellamy was still learning how to navigate. If he asked questions, and they only served to further upset her, then he would be the bad guy.

In the end, it was Clarke who decided for him, again.

"I was just trying to think of where I knew him from. I've seen him before. Heard his voice. But I couldn't place it until just now," she explained. "What's his name? Something with an M, right?"

"Yeah, Murphy."

"Murphy!" Clarke exclaimed, a little too loudly. The boy in question turned over his shoulder at the sound of his name. Clarke flushed red and apologized, but Murphy seemed to have the same realization that Clarke had.

"Hey! You're the girl from the elevator!" He said, pointing at her like he'd made a grand discovery. "Remember? Last week, I don't know what day, but you were moving in. With that real dopey looking guy, with the long hair."

Now Bellamy knew why Clarke's face had paled at the sight of Murphy. The association to-

"Finn?" Raven asked curiously.

"I dunno his name," Murphy shrugged. "I just know I nearly ran him over, because Miller here _stole my Hot Pocket!" _

"Heaven forbid. Was it pepperoni? Because then we have a real crime on our hands," Bellamy said, trying to get the subject off Finn.

Raven was uninterested in the flavor of the Hot Pocket though. "Is that the first time you met Finn? He told me about that, that some jackass came flying out of the elevator and broke your basket."

Bellamy swallowed, thinking desperately on how to spin this conversation for the protection of Clarke.

"Yes," Clarke answered quietly.

"Hey now! The _real _jackass of the situation is the Hot Pocket thief," Murphy protested.

"I have to side with Murphy on this one, but do answer Bellamy's question. _Was it pepperoni?" _Jasper asked, invested.

"It was four meat."

"Gah!" Jasper cried out like he'd be struck, falling dramatically into Monty, who caught him under the arms, supporting his limp body. "Miller, you're a monster!"

Monty nodded, pushing Jasper off of himself, into Miller, who struggled to grab hold of the gangly boy. For the second time, Bellamy was glad for the boys' antics. Both times, it was for the benefit of Clarke. He glanced down at her now, and she was smiling faintly at the scene in front of her, despite her pale face.

"Sorry. But a man's gotta eat," Miller said. After righting Jasper, he looked amused at this new group of friends he'd stumbled into.

"No excuses. The Royal Court of College Boys demands you pay your fee in full, to one John Murphy." Jasper decreed with a finger in the air.

"My fee?"

Monty continued where Jasper left off, the pair of friends so in sync with one another. "Yes, the fee for _Theft of Hot Pocket_ is double the amount of the item stolen. So, you stole one Hot Pocket, you must repay Murphy with _two _Hot Pockets."

"_Two?"  
_"Ah ha! I knew this would come back around to my favor!" Murphy cried, shaking Miller by his shoulders.

"Whatever man. A box of Hot Pockets is like, two bucks."

"I'm a broke college student! Free food is free food," Murphy said easily. Bellamy remembered Clarke saying the same thing to him last night, when they were talking about going to grocery bingo.

"Wait, are we going to get done in time for grocery bingo?" Bellamy asked the whole group.

"Yeah, I was counting on getting a box of granola bars," Monty said.

"We'll be fine if you just hurry up and get in there!" Octavia said commandingly, herding the boys towards the gymnasium door. They allowed themselves to be pushed, taking in the scene before them in the large space. Groups of people stood around, gathered mainly around a table in the center of court, talking and laughing.

"Where do we try out?" Monty asked, confused.

"Oh, this is intramurals," Miller said, unhelpfully. Bellamy was a little fuzzy on the terminology of college sports. This was obviously not a pro-level team, but there were different levels of sports that you could just play for fun. Intramurals and club sports.

"What's that mean?"

"It's just for fun. There are games on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays," Miller continued.

Monty glanced around. "I thought we had to like, audition."

"_Audition? _This isn't some theatre production," Murphy said in a crass tone.

"Wait, you mean we _don't _get to see you guys get reemed in the face today?" Raven was clearly disappointed.

"Oh no. You will," Murphy grinned. "The first tournament starts at 2:30, to get all of the teams seeded, so then they can make weekly brackets."

"_Seeded? _Like a _garden?" _Jasper said with disdain. Bellamy looked at him, utterly dumbfounded. Murphy fixed him with a stare that then slid to Bellamy reading, '_Is this guy stupid or what?'_

"I take it you didn't play too many sports growing up," Bellamy said, suppressing his laugh. He noticed Clarke's bemused look as well, She hadn't left his side since Finn's name had been mentioned in the hall.

"Or _play _any," Murphy groaned.

"I still don't get it," Jasper pouted.

"It's like, a number of how good your team is. The best team is the highest seed, or the 1 seed, and the lowest seed is the worst seed. Then they match up the best team with the worst team, to weed out the losers," Clarke started explaining. "So like in the March Madness tournament, the 1 seed plays the 16 seed, then the 2 seed plays the 15 seed and so on. The games of the closer seeds are usually more competitive. The 1 seed and 16 seed games are usually blowouts." Bellamy was thoroughly impressed with the Princess. He didn't take her as a college basketball fan, but she was full of surprises it seemed.

Everyone else seemed to have the same reaction, and Bellamy could swear he saw Murphy drooling. But Clarke wasn't done dazzling them, seemingly enjoying the fact that she had them all stupefied.

"Bonus points to any who can tell me the only 1 seed to lose to a 16 seed," she beamed.

"2018, Virginia lost to UMBC!" Murphy cried out, throwing his hand in the air like Clarke was a teacher who would call upon him.

"Very good Murphy!" she praised him. "Now, _extra _bonus points to whoever can tell me UMBC's mascot?"

Bellamy smirked to himself, watching Murphy's face fall at the realization that he didn't know the answer.

"UMBC retrievers beat the University of Virginia Cavaliers by exactly 20 points before going on to face Kansas State."

Clarke turned her warm smile on him. "Excellent, Bellamy!"

"Okay! Enough trivia. This is dodgeball, not football," Octavia interrupted.

"_Basketball_," Bellamy said at the same time as Clarke and Murphy. They all three smirked at one another.

"Whatever. Go sign in!" She shoved Bellamy towards the table at the middle of the court.

Miller called after him, "Wait, we'll need a team name!"

Bellamy turned back around to face the group and Jasper piped up immediately.

"The Delinquents."

A beat passed.

Even Monty was looking at Jasper like he had sprouted a second head.

"The _Delinquents_?"

"Have you ever committed a crime in your life, Jasper?" Miller asked, doing the nest to hide his expression from him.

"I jay-walked once, in front of the library," Jasper said meekly, taking note of the faces surrounding him.

Murphy started cackling and soon they had all joined in. Jasper turned red in the face and started laughing along, whether as an attempt to save face or simply because he found it humorous, Bellamy wasn't sure.

"I'm not against it. I've got nothing better." Bellamy said, watching the other three boys shrug and nod.

"The Delinquents it is."


	21. Chapter 21

"I can't believe you made us come to this. I could be sleeping! Or studying! Or eating or even _doing my laundry," _Raven said, exasperated as she slumped into the bleachers, crossing her arms at Octavia.

"If I recall correctly, you wanted to come, because, '_We get to see them get hit in the face with balls!'"_ Octavia snipped back in a poor impersonation of Raven. It still made Clarke snicker though, which earned her a glare from her roommate.

"You did say that."

"You're supposed to be on my side, Clarke!"

"Sorry, can't argue with facts."

"I'm not saying that I _didn't_ say that. I _did_. But that doesn't change the fact that this is simply-" Raven waved her hand to encompass the entirety of the gymnasium, "-atrocious_! _What are they even _doing?!" _

"They are making posters and flags," Harper said levelly, which of course, attracted Raven's glare like a magnet.

"This is a _dodgeball _tournament, not arts and crafts at Christian summer camp! They are meant to play _dodgeball." _

"Woah, Christian summer camp, sounds like there is a story behind that one." Octavia leaned forward, intrigued. Raven huffed at her and mumbled,

"I went there _once. _One time. And they made us do arts and flippin' crafts for hours. Every day."

Octavia cackled. "I was too poor to go to summer camp, I always wanted to know what it was like."

"Well you dodged a bullet. Consider yourself lucky," Raven said scornfully.

"It's not that bad, Raven." Clarke placed her hands on the girl's shoulders. "At least we're not just sitting around the dorm."

"We're sitting around this gym instead." Raven slumped into Clarke's knees instead, dropping her head into her lap.

"You'd think you were being tortured," Octavia muttered, the humor leaving quickly.

"I'd rather have my fingernails ripped out one by one. Might liven this up a bit."

Clarke shook her head at Raven, gazing out over the gym to where Bellamy and the other boys were kneeling on the floor before a large poster board and an array of paints and markers. She had to admit that it was rather boring, especially since they had been forbidden to help The Delinquents make their poster. It was some kind of precursor competition, before the actual tournament started. There were about three dozen teams scattered throughout the space, coloring and drawing and painting. It was sort of comical, watching these nearly grown men crouch on the floor with paint brushes.

"Look," Octavia said, standing up. They glanced over to where Monty was waving them over to their corner.

Clarke hauled an unwilling Raven to her feet, pulling her down the bleachers and across the gym floor by her wrist.

"Ta dah!" Jasper said, stepping back proudly, revealing the completed poster. Clarke tilted her head to the side, trying to figure out what the conglomeration of shapes and colors were. She guessed the other girls' reactions were similar, based on Jasper's disgruntled huff. He snatched the poster off the floor and pointed to a large shape on the side, his gaze imploring.

"What is it?" Harper asked softly.

"It's a spaceship!" He proclaimed as if repulsed by the thought that none of them got it.

"Why?" Octavia asked harshly.

"Because spaceships are awesome," Jasper said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

'You're not wrong," Raven agreed and Jasper nodded approvingly at her.

"Thank you."

"What's this other stuff?"

"Oh, that's each of our handprints, and those are supposed to be dodgeballs with flames on them, because you know, we're going to throw them so fast they will be liable to catching fire," Monty explained.

Clarke could sort of make out what he was describing, but it mostly looked like a bucket of paint had been dumped onto the poster, then someone had mushed their hands into it, before writing '_The Delinquents' _haphazardly across the top in Sharpie marker.

"It's nice," she said, smiling at the boys. In reality, it almost physically pained her to look at it. Her artistic side was cringing away from the monstrosity that was this poster.

"I said less glitter but Jasper insisted," Miller said.

"Now we probably look like a bunch of fairies," Murphy was more gruff.

"Hey now," Bellamy warned.

A voice on a loudspeaker over the gym announced that the tournament would be starting in ten minutes, right after the posters were judged so the initial matchups could be made.

"Let's get this party started!" Raven whooped, pushing Monty towards the rest of the team from where he had been slinking away, seemingly gunshy now that it was time to actually take part in the sport.

"Wait, I want to take a picture! Hold up your poster." Harper shuffled them together, arranging them from behind her phone's camera whilst Murphy muttered,

"Dear God, I didn't know my mother followed me to college."

"You'll be glad to have it in ten years," Clarke defended Harper, catching Bellamy's eye from where he stood with an arm slung over Miller's shoulder. He flashed a bright, cheeky grin at Clarke and Harper snapped the photo.

"What? For my scrapbook?" Murphy retorted and then Raven rounded on him.

"Listen here you, you cockroach! Harper is just trying to do something nice for all of you so shut up about it or get out."

Murphy threw up his hands in mock surrender and ducked away from her. Raven, satiated now by her reprimanding of Murphy, made her way back to the girl's spot on the bleachers.

"Good luck," Clarke said over her shoulder.

Bellamy was the only one to respond from where he was bringing up the rear of his team. "Thanks, Princess. You too."

The Delinquents got 17th place out of 36 teams for their poster. Clearly, teenage boys and art supplies weren't the greatest combination.

The tournament commenced and they proved to be halfway decent at the sport at least. Well, Bellamy, Miller, and Murphy were good. They crushed their first match, and then their second. It was actually pretty exciting to watch once they got going. Clarke was sort of impressed with how athletic and competitive Bellamy was. Of course she knew that he was muscular and well built, but he seemed to be having such a great time, grinning while he leapt and ducked around, taunting the other team and clapping his teammates on the back.

Jasper and Monty were a bit more reluctant to join in, especially after seeing some of the opponents. They lingered behind the three other guys, only coming forward when the others would get out. Jasper was a gangly kid, but he could rifle a ball with the best of them. And, he was less cumbersome on the floor. Whereas Bellamy and Miller had to rely mostly on catching or blocking any ball thrown at them, Jasper could shimmy out of the way like he was made of rubber.

In the third game, Murphy nearly got into a fistfight with the referee over his near headshot. The ball had hit him in the neck, and he was called out. Despite the ruling, he was determined to make a case for himself, that he had, in fact, been hit in the head. He was yelling and stomping around the referee, who was no more than another college kid who clearly had no idea what to do about the situation.

Eventually, Bellamy and Miller talked him down, and they still scraped out the win with a fantastic catch by Monty that had all of the girls cheering from the bleachers. The other four boys rushed Monty and hoisted him up on their shoulders, much to Monty's bewilderment. He perched precariously there and smiled widely as they paraded him across the gym.

Then, The Delinquents were in the quarterfinals after nearly three hours of dodgeball, facing The Grounders. Bellamy stepped forward to shake hands with an enormously muscled guy before the match started. He looked far older than college aged, but then again, Bellamy was… how old was Bellamy? Clarke made a mental note to ask him that. Anyway, Bellamy was older than the typical incoming freshman but there he was, playing intramural dodgeball.

"Jeez, look at that guy," Harper commented.

"Yeah…" Octavia sighed.

The other three girls shared a look behind Octavia's head. She wouldn't have noticed anyway, what with the eyes she was making at the other man. Clarke watched as he then glanced up at where they were sitting and gave a barely perceptible nod. Clarke noticed though and got the feeling that something was not quite as it seemed.

The game commenced and The Delinquents were quickly outmatched by The Grounders. Murphy got out almost instantly, nailed right in the stomach. He looked as if he was about to argue again, but a glare from Bellamy banished him quietly to the sidelines. A ball ricocheted off of Miller and Monty scrambled to catched it, but it slipped through his hands and fell to the floor, getting both boys out.

Jasper, sensing their impending doom at 5 vs 2, flew forward from the back line where he had been hovering with a strangled sort of battle cry, a ball in each hand. He launched one high, trying to entice the opponent to catch it as a distraction, and misled the other one towards the huge guy. The distraction worked, but on the wrong person. Bellamy was so surprised by Jasper's outburst, that he was hit with a weakly thrown ball in the leg. Both of Jasper's balls were caught, and the game was over.

Clarke followed the girls down to the floor, where both teams were gathering on the side of the court to get out of the way for the second quarterfinal game.

"-throw you got there, kid." Clarke caught the end of what the big guy said, patting Jasper on the shoulder. Jasper was gaping at him, looking starstruck over the intramural dodgeball player.

"Go on and introduce yourself then," Raven nudged Octavia forward.

Octavia poorly feigned surprise. "Huh? Introduce myself?"

Raven scoffed, nodding at the man. Octavia drew herself back as if insulted. Clarke chuckled at Octavia as she ducked away, her eyes never leaving him though. They approached and Clarke watched the two people make eye contact for a bit longer than normal for a first meeting.

"Good game," Clarke said, making herself known with a friendly wave.

"Yeah, it was great," Bellamy said, coming up alongside her. He smelled of sweat and exertion, which was strangely not totally repulsive.

"It was. Nice to meet you all, I'm Lincoln," the guy said, glancing behind him as if to introduce the rest of his team, but they had scattered behind him, chatting with more people. "Hmm."

"I'm Octavia. It's nice to meet you, Lincoln."

"You too, Octavia," he replied, again his gaze lingered a touch too long. The whole exchange was terribly formal and completely weird to Clarke.

They were interrupted before anyone else seemed to notice though, by a tall girl coming up behind Lincoln, her gaze intent on Bellamy.

"Hey you," she said, sounding as if she already knew him. Knew him quite well. Clarke was a bit taken aback, but she was careful to ensure it didn't show on her face. "Did you get to where you needed to go on, oh, what night was that?" She said breezily.

"Uh, yeah. I did," Bellamy said with a glance down at Clarke. She returned his gaze levelly, feeling like she was missing something.

"That's good. I was watching you play, because, well how could I not!" She laughed lightly before continuing, "And I thought you looked familiar, but I couldn't remember where I knew you from."

"Hmm," Bellamy said without returning any of the playful inflection in this girl's voice.

"And then you ran off so fast that night, I didn't even get your name."

"It's Bellamy."

"Oh! Well, I'm Echo. Nice to see you again." Clarke was confused by this exchange as well, but she couldn't back away so these two could talk to each other. Raven was right behind her, engrossed in conversation with Miller and Murphy in a tight circle that Clarke couldn't just slip into. She was stuck between this awkward conversation and the awkward looks between Octavia and this Lincoln guy.

"Yeah," Bellamy said.

"You were great out there. Don't tell the rest of the team, but you definitely carried," Echo leaned into Bellamy, as if telling him a secret, except she didn't lower her voice so she was still heard loud and clear.

"Thanks. But it's a team sport, so not really."

Clarke was a bit surprised at how cold and reserved Bellamy was being. She really didn't know him all that well, but the side of him she did know was amiable and warm.

"Anyway, I think we're heading to Hodge's Bend after the championship game if you want to stick around and join us?" Echo asked.

"Uh, no, but thanks. We've got plans, don't we, Clarke?"

Her name coming from Bellamy's mouth startled Clarke from her musings about where she had heard of that place before. "Hmm?" She looked up, not having heard the beginning of the question. Echo was looking at her in an unsettling way and Clarke shifted away. Bellamy was looking at her intently as he asked again,

"We've got plans, don't we?"

Clarke was confused. She didn't have plans with Bellamy… "Oh! You mean bingo?"

"Bingo?" Echo started to laugh.

"Yeah. Bingo," Clarke said flatly. She wasn't sure she was too fond of this Echo chick.

"C'mon. We'd better get going if we want to make it on time," Bellamy said, laying a hand on Clarke's shoulder and turning her away from Echo. Clarke could feel the other girl's gaze on her back as she retreated, guided by Bellamy.

"Well, see you around."

"Sure," Bellamy waved goodbye with his free hand without turning around.

Bellamy rounded up the rest of the group, and Miller and Murphy decided to go along with them on the pretense of free food.

Once outside, Clarke realized how late it had gotten. The lack of windows in the gymnasious had hidden the passing of time, so it was a bit of a surprise to walk out into the near dusk.

Bellamy noticed when Clarke gave pause in the doorway, hesitating on the threshold. Her stomach seized up and some invisible force was holding her back, like the dark air had formed into a solid, impenetrable mass. Bellamy held the door for her and turned a soft gaze back. The rest of the group had gone out ahead of them, laughing about the bruise forming on Murphy's neck. Their voices rang out in the night, competing with the traffic noises playing over the air.

"I'm alright," Clarke said quickly, darting outside, trying to avoid Bellamy's concerned eyes. It was making her skin crawl for some reason right now, probably just because she didn't know what had come over her.

"What's wrong Clarke?" He asked, jogging a few paces to catch up with her. She wrapped her arms tightly about herself, looking down at the pavement.

"Nothin," she said offhandedly.

"Okay."

Clarke was glad that he didn't pry. She wanted to say something to get the feeling out of the air, and the first thing that came out of her mouth was, "I miss the sounds of the crickets. Haven't got any of those in Minneapolis."

It was just random enough to take Bellamy aback.

"Guess not. Not down town anyway, but there are plenty here."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely. And cicadas and frogs and aphids. All kinds of singing things. Sometime we'll go on a road trip and listen. Maybe once the leaves change," Bellamy mused and Clarke felt her anxiety start to dissipate with the wistful tone of Bellamy's voice.

She chuckled and he glanced down. "Have you got a car?"

"Well, no. We can take the bus."

"Sounds like a plan." Bellamy held out his hand and Clarke shook it, letting her tightly wrapped arms come undone. "Maybe we can ask Raven to borrow her Jeep."

Bellamy nodded. "I know just the place."

"Yeah?"

"But it's a secret. I can't have you looking it up ahead of time and spoiling the view for yourself."

"Oh really? So it has a view. What makes you think I can't find it on my own?" Clarke raised a brow at Bellamy with a teasing smile.

"You wouldn't," he glowered.

"Never know."

They were interrupted by Jasper and Murphy shouting ahead. The group had paused at the corner, waiting for the light to turn.

"It is not, '_Hey there Delilah, what's it like in New York City'," _Jasper said.

"Yes! It is!" Murphy was standing in front of him, glaring.

"No! It's "_How's it like in New York City.'"_

"Dear God," Raven muttered.

"Listen to yourself! _How's it like? _That doesn't even make _sense!" _

"It doesn't have to make sense to be right!" Jasper retorted indignantly, not backing down. Murphy looked around at the assembled crowd as if unable to believe they were listening to blasphemy this without speaking up. Clarke and Bellamy shared a look before they both started struggling to conceal their laughter.

"Uh, Jasper," Monty spoke up, pulling Jasper's attention away from staring Murphy down. "He's right."

"Haha real funny, Monty."

"No, I'm not joking, Jasper."

"Finally, someone with some sense!" Murphy exclaimed, snatching Monty's phone out of his hands and jabbing his finger at the screen where the boy had pulled up the lyrics to _Hey There Delilah. _

"Look! Open you peasant eyes and behold! '_Hey there Delilah, what's it like in New York City'!" _Murphy yelled. "_What's! What's_ it like!"

"I refuse to believe lies." Jasper stood tall and turned his face away.

"Dude, it's right there. You're wrong," Miller said sensibly. Jasper only hoisted his nose higher into the air. Clarke was just an observer as everyone else dissolved into trying to convince Jasper to concede and admit that he was wrong, because Murphy wasn't going to relent until he said the words.

"Just admit it dude," Bellamy said, fed up with the whole bit.

"Yeah, we're late now," Octavia grumbled. Jasper looked lost, his resolve fading as he glanced around at the irritated faces. Clarke was still trying to figure out why he was so dead set on not apologizing and admitting his mistake.

"Okay, okay! I was wrong," he muttered, barely audible.

"What was that?" Murphy leaned forward with a hand cupped to his ear.

Miller pulled him upright. "Leave it."

"Fine. Only because I'm trying to be the bigger person."

Octavia and Raven made identical scoffs and started off down the street.

"Get outta here," Miller shoved Murphy and they started jogging to catch up. Clarke was nervous for a moment that this stupid argument was going to lead to a whole dispute with punches thrown and newly foraged friendships jepordized. She quickly realized that wasn't the MO of this group, as not two minutes later, they were skipping into the Hall, singing Hey There Delilah at the top of their lungs.

"Ohhh, it's what you do to meeee! It's what you do to meee!"

It was one of those moments when Clarke felt like she was on top of the world and totally in control. She was confident and content and surrounded by a whole group of friends. Even if she had only made them over the past couple of weeks, she knew they were the stuff lifelong companions were made of. The whole year was ahead of her, and nothing was going to prevent her from experiencing all college had to offer.


	22. Chapter 22

Bellamy stared at his dwindling pile of snacks where they were stacked on the unused desk. It had been six days since his victory at bingo, six days since the dodgeball tournament, six days without seeing Clarke. He knew he should be happy about that fact, as she hadn't needed to call him for any reason, but he couldn't help but feel a little bit disappointed. He quite simply missed her.

She had, however, been a loyal correspondent through text, as she had had trouble falling asleep twice over the past six day, on Monday and Wednesday. They had also chatted back and forth through their more boring classes. For Clarke, it was English and for Bellamy it was College Algebra. They'd even talked on the phone about Clarke's English assignment on Greek Mythology and Bellamy had been itching to spill his copious knowledge on the topic. Maybe he had wanted to impress Clarke, or maybe he simply wanted to help her out. Either way, she had been impressed, and if they hadn't spent thirty minutes chatting, she would have had the paper knocked out in under an hour.

Clarke had tried to help him with the Algebra, but it was difficult through text. Bellamy remembered how he had waited impatiently for her to respond to his question if she wanted to meet him, to work in person, but Clarke had declined without citing a reason. Bellamy had swallowed down his disappointment with a sort of bitter confusion. Perhaps his resignation from Octavia's day to day life had left him craving someone to watch over. He chalked it up to that, and that he and Clarke were _friends. Friends _hung out with one another and _friends _missed each other when they didn't see each other for a week.

_Six days. _Bellamy corrected himself.

They were both busy, he knew that. On Sunday, the girls were cleaning their dorm and bathroom, then shopping together. Clarke had kept him updated on Octavia and the shenanigans they were getting up to, like Harper having a photoshoot with the cashier in Target or Raven trying to hurdle jump a wet floor sign and nearly breaking her wrist when she slipped so hard on the wet floor beneath the sign. Bellamy had laughed aloud when Clarke told him that. She had such a way of describing things, even through text, that he was amazed she thought she was bad at English.

On Monday, Clarke had told him she was working on a 'new project' for him. Bellamy had immediately demanded to know what it was, but Clarke, of course, refused to even give him a hint. Bellamy had spent the last four days guessing at what it might be, but Clarke still vehemently refused to tell if it was right or wrong, although she had let it slip that is was not another baked good after Bellamy had guessed, as Clarke put it, "_Every desert known to man on the entire Earth, Moon, solar system, galaxy and beyond". _

Tuesday Bellamy and the guys got together at the Recreation Center to mess around in the gym and practice their dodgeball strategy. Bellamy was growing to like Miller, he seemed reasonable and level headed, which Bellamy considered to be important qualities. Murphy on the other hand, sort of grated on Bellamy's nerves. Thankfully, Murphy usually picked his bones with Jasper, so Bellamy could just observe the tribulations he was put through.

Wednesday came around and Clarke went out with one of her new friends, Lexa, from one of her classes, Bellamy had forgotten which.

On Thursday, Bellamy had the rather unfortunate experience of running into Echo again. Now that he thought back on it, it didn't exactly seem like an accident the way he had stumbled upon her. She had been leaning against the doorway of the cafeteria when Bellamy walked in, and she swooped towards him like a hawk zeroing in on a field mouse. He had jumped in surprise by the sound of her voice, as he had earbuds in and was clearly not an inviting image with his black hood up and his hands jammed into his pockets.

Echo had gotten her lunch and sat down at Bellamy's table without an invitation. He tried to keep an open mind, so he forced himself to actually talk to her. She told him about her family, which included her older brother Roan, who was a senior at the University. He was a member of The Grounders dodgeball team, and Echo made a promise to introduce them the next time they played. She told him she was going to a career in either criminal investigation or physical education, she hadn't decided yet, as she loved fitness and the like, although she hated kids. Bellamy had laughed, thinking she was making a joke, because how could you be a teacher if you hate kids? But Echo had only stared at him, clearly as serious as a heart attack. Overall, it had been a strange experience for Bellamy, but Echo mustn't have thought so, as she asked if he wanted to do it again. He said maybe and walked away.

Now it was Friday, and Bellamy had gone to classes all day, finished all of the homework he cared to do for one evening, and was laying on his bed, staring at his dwindling snacks. He wondered if they were having grocery bingo again tomorrow, as it was a good deal, the free food and all. He could ask Clarke if she was going, she probably was, along with the rest of the girls. That would mean Harper would ask Monty to go, so Jasper would tag along, and then Bellamy could also go without raising any suspicions.

Just then, a text came in from Miller, asking if he wanted to go out for drinks with Murphy and meet some of his other friends.

Bellamy screwed his lips to the side, considering the offer. It would be nice to get out for a few hours, do some typical college guy stuff, but the appeal of bars had long worn off for Bellamy. He was older than the average college freshman. He didn't even need a fake ID to get into bars or clubs, and half the fun was seeing if you could make it in illegally without getting caught.

Did he really want to meet Miller's other friends? It sort of sounded like a night of awkward small talk.

Then, Clarke texted him.

C: _Hey, what are you up to tonight? Raven went out with Octavia and Harper is doing something with Monty._

Well, this wasn't a hard decision at all. Bellamy quickly declined Miller's offer with a 'next weekend' and was standing outside of Clarke's door in a couple of minutes. Only then did he realize he hadn't even responded to her text. He blinked in surprise and drew his hand back from where he had been about to knock on the door. How had he gotten so ahead of himself?

B: _Not much. You have anything in mind?_

C: _Oh, you just assume I was asking you to do something? :)_

Bellamy realized that was exactly what he had done, given that he was standing outside of her door right now.

B: _Yeah. Who wouldn't want to hang out with the great Bellamy himself?_

_C: Hmm. Come up if you want, we can figure something out._

_B: K. C U soon._

_C: Bellamy! Use your words! It's not that hard!_

Bellamy grinned, having used the abbreviations just to get a rise out of Clarke. Ever since she let on that it irritated her, he just couldn't resist. It was too easy.

He knocked on the door and heard Clarke shuffling around inside, then she cursed. The door swung open and Clarke was crouching on the floor, clutching her foot.

"Clarke?"

"Yeah?" She asked, looking up at Bellamy with a pained face.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothin'. Just stubbed my toe." She sniffed and stood up. "Ouch. Stubbed toes have got to be up there with the most painful things in the world."

"Yeah, right up there with childbirth," Clarke joked.

"I was thinking more along the lines of getting kicked in the balls, which is the ultimate pain, but childbirth seems pretty bad, too."

Clarke leveled him with a glare that said, '_Watch it, buddy', _and Bellamy laughed.

"I'm just joking, of course."

"Are you?" Clarke cocked a playful brow.

"Of course. Women are far superior to men in every imaginable way," Bellamy said, bowing his head so far to Clarke that his nose nearly touched his knee.

She chuckled. "Smart man. Hey, how'd you get here so fast?"

"Uh," Bellamy stalled. "I live just downstairs, you know. How's your toe?"

"Inflamed. Red. Pulsating," Clarke said thoughtfully, twisting her ankle to look at her injured foot from all directions.

Bellamy watched her feet retreat further into her room so he rose back up, watching her. She tucked the corner of something under a blanket on her bed before bending down to pick up a few pencils from the carpet.

"So, when are you going to tell me about this _special project_ you're working on?" He questioned, eyeing the blanket. Clarke followed his eyeline and quickly sidestepped between Bellamy and her bed.

"I uh, it's not done yet. And no, before you ask, you may _not _have a sneak peak," she said firmly. Bellamy knew his face reflected the surprise he felt that she had been able to guess the next words he'd wanted to speak. She smiled somewhat smugly, recognizing his expression.

"Okay…" He said slowly, formulating a plan. "What do you want to do then?"

"I dunno. When is the first football game?" She asks, sidetracking Bellamy.

"Tomorrow I think, but-"

"Really? Can we go? Do you have to get tickets beforehand? Or do we get student passes or something? I've never been to a professional football game before. Well, I guess college football isn't exactly professional, but I've never been to anything bigger than a highschool game. Minnesota is in the Big 10, right?"

Bellamy couldn't keep up with all her questions, so he started ticking them off on his fingers. "I would love to go. I don't know where to get tickets. I don't know about student passes. You're right, college football isn't professional, that'd be the NFL, but they are exciting. Yes, we are a Big 10 school."

Clarke seemed to find Bellamy's system of keeping track of her questions very amusing, judging by the look on her face.

"What?" Bellamy asked.

"Nothing." Clarke's lips quirked and she looked away.

"I hate that!" He warned.

"Hate what?" Clarke questioned in a sickly sweet innocent voice.

"Hate when you ask someone something, and they say, '_nothing!_' Octavia used to do that. She still does. I'd come home, and ask her what she was reading, and she'd just say, "_Nothing!',_ like, you're obviously not reading _nothing_, the book is right there in your hands!"

Now Clarke was just laughing at him, and Bellamy chuckled.

"Sorry, didn't know I'd touched a nerve there," she said on an inhale, then bit the tip of her tongue between her tongue and kept laughing as Bellamy shook his head.

"I am very passionate about receiving an answer to the question I asked," he justified weakly.

"Okay," Clarke said, nodding through her grin. "I would tell you, but now I don't even remember what you asked."

"Me either," Bellamy said, moving to sit on Clarke's bed.

"No!" She cried, her face changing quickly from her jovial expression to one of concern.

"Wha'?"

"Don't sit there!" Clarke said quickly, wedging herself further between Bellamy and the bed, planting her hands on his back and pushing him away.

"Why ever not? What's under there?"

"Noth-"

Bellamy cut Clarke off with a raised brow. His plan was working flawlessly.

"It's uh-" She stared at the lumpy blanket.

"Hmm?"

"It's something secret," She finally said, looking up at Bellamy with a guilty little smile.

"Oh? Is it?" He drawled, taking a few small steps around the dorm while Clarke maintained her defensive position in front of the bed.

"What are you getting at, _Blake?" _Clarke said sharply. Bellamy glanced up, eyeing the change in her face. He didn't like her calling him Blake, it reminded him of what his highschool teachers used to call him, his boss of his summer job, the police officer at the door when they came to arrest his mother. _Blake. _

"Nothin'," Bellamy said with a sly smile. They were playing a game now, a game that Bellamy had the upper hand in.

"Whatever you're doing, knock it off! I'm warning you!" Clarke spat. Even though he knew she was only playing along, the venom in her voice was cutting enough that he had to do a double take. Something similar to the feeling of snow down the back of your winter coat snaked its way up Bellamy's spine.

"I'm not doing anything, but then again, I'm not the one with something to hide," he said lightly.

Clarke tilted her head to the side. "It's really for your own good, that I'm hiding it from you."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes, Bellamy!" Clarke shouted.

"Hmm," he hummed. "What will it cost, to see it?"

"There is no price tag! I said no!"

"Are you sure?" Bellamy ducked his head and peared up at Clarke through slitted eyes, cocking one brow. She looked as if she was choking as she tried to hold back her laugh.

"What are you _doing?" _She broke down in giggles, abandoning her stoick facade.

"You mean that didn't work? The puppy dog eyes didn't convince you to do anything in the world for me?"

"The only thing it convinced me of is that you're the biggest weirdo I've ever met," Clarke said.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry, the truth hurts," Clarke shrugged, her laughter wound down and she seemed to get self conscious, grabbing her elbow and hugging herself. Bellamy watched her, sort of confused about what had just transpired. He had been acting so unlike himself just then. The only person he had ever joked around with like that was Octavia, but that was years ago. His little sister had long outgrown his teasing remarks, returning them with only a glare and a scoff that grew more indignant with each year that passed.

Clarke though, she seemed to appreciate it, and that set a warm feeling growing in his chest.

"So, what is it you want to do?" Bellamy asked her then, abandoning his plan to steal a look at her _special project. _He'd just have to be patient, although that was never his strong suit.

Clarke screwed her mouth to the side and got that thoughtful look on her face, Bellamy revealed in the fact that he could already recognise it, and admitted he'd missed seeing her over the past six days.

"Oh!" An idea popped into her head and her whole face lit up. "I heard Harper say something, that she was going out for _Juicy Lucys _with Monty a couple of days ago, but before I could ask her what that meant, she was gone."

Bellamy stared at her until her bright-eyed look faltered, she flushed rosy pink and looked away. "Unless that means something I don't know about...I should have looked it up first maybe," she mumbled.

"Oh, Princess," Bellamy smiled.

"What?"

"I guess I forgot that you're not from around here."

Clarke looked up, asking him to continue.

"A Juicy Lucy is something so quintessentially Minnesotan, I can hardly believe you've never heard of it before. You've lived here for what? Two weeks now?"

Clarke nodded. "What is it?"

Bellamy only shook his head. "It is not something that can be described in words, it must be experienced first hand."

"Well okay, looks like we figured out what we're doing tonight."

"Perfect! I was getting hu-" Bellamy stopped mid sentence, dawning on the realization that he now had more leverage in his game.

"Getting what?" Clarke asked, oblivious with her back turned. She was fishing out something that had fallen between her bed and nightstand, leaning over with one leg raised into the air.

"Oh, nothing."

"Bellamy, you are such a hypocrite!" She chastised, shaking her head as she stood up, brushing a bit of fuzz from a pack of gum.

"All I'm saying is, two can play at your game of withholding hints," he replied cryptically. Clarke looked confused for a moment before realizing. Then she just exhaled and shook her head.

"You're too much."

"I try," Bellamy replied sweetly.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll just have to wait and see, now won't you?"

"Bellamy! I am just asking if I should change, or if I need to bring money, or anything else. What kind of shoes should I wear?"

Bellamy felt a lightness in the way he was holding his knowledge over Clarke in a sort of way. It was entertaining how little she knew about Minnesota and it's unique little subculture, and he definitely wanted to show her everything there was to know.

"Just, wear what you would normally wear."

"That's helpful," She said dryly, looking down at her outfit, which consisted of a pair of grey shorts and a pale yellow shirt. Her hair was down around her shoulders and as far as Bellamy could tell, she wasn't wearing any makeup. It didn't matter.

"You look fine," he said, then cringed. What girl wanted to be told she looked _fine? _But before he could revise his statement, Clarke said,

"Thanks. Okay, let's go."

"Alright. You fine walking? I can call a Lyft if you want, but it's like, two miles or something."

"No, I'd like to walk!" she said hurriedly. "It's a nice day," she added.

"Okay, whatever works," Bellamy said easily, opening the door for Clarke to walk through.

"You want a piece of gum?" She offered, holding out the foil wrapped stick.

"Sure," Bellamy reached out for it, only for Clarke to snatch it back.

"You know, on second thought, I only have eleven pieces left, I'd better save it… Although I supposed if you shared some information with me, perhaps the location of this Juicy Lucy, or what this Juicy Lucy _is, _I could spare a piece." Clarke said striding down the hall, talking over her shoulder.

Bellamy stole her signature eye roll as he caught up with her.

"Hmm. I don't think I'm at liberty to disclose that information."

"Ugh Bellamy! I really thought that would work," Clarke grumbled.

"You've underestimated me, although you almost got me. Because _spearmint is my favorite." _Clarke said at the same time as Bellamy.

He glanced at her curiously as they made their way out onto the street.

"How'd you know that?"

"Oh, you know," Clarke said, looking down at the flowerbeds surrounding the flagpole in front of the Hall.

"Claaarke," Bellamy groaned.

"You're right, this game is getting a little old."

"So you'll tell me about the surprise?"

"No!" Clarke shouted. "I'll tell you about the gum. Octavia mentioned it this afternoon when I offered her a piece."

"Hmm, I didn't think Octavia would have remembered something like that," Bellamy said softly, touched that she would.

"Of course she would. She's your sister."

"I guess. Are you that close with your siblings?" Bellamy asked, "Wait! You are an only child."

"Yeah. I'd like to think I would be though. I always wanted a sibling," Clarke said, trailing her fingers along the rough brick of the building they were walking past. Bellamy directed her left around a corner and they continued walking.

"Did you want a brother or a sister?"

"Well, I always wanted an older brother, or a younger sister."

"Trust me, younger sisters aren't all that great," Bellamy joked.

Clarke frowned. Bellamy was spending so much time looking down at her face he nearly walked into a mailbox. Clarke didn't seem to notice, she was too concentrated on staring down at her feet.

"I'm sure everyone has their days, but I just wished I had someone to go through things with, you know? Especially after my dad died, it was just so…, lonely around the house. And a sibling would have been able to understand what I was going through."

Bellamy felt for Clarke, because truthfully, he loved Octavia more than life itself. His life without her was unimaginable.

"I get that. They are nice. Sometimes."

"Yeah. And it was never a huge deal, because my dad was always very hands on with me as a kid. He'd take me places and play all kinds of games with me. I was never bored, but after he died…"

"I'm sorry, Clarke."

"For what?" She asked softly, kicking a rock down the pavement.

Bellamy didn't know what to say. He was sorry for lots of things. Sorry that her dad died, sorry about what Finn did to her, sorry that she was struggling. He didn't reply; he was so lost in thoughts.

It was only when they paused at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn, that Bellamy felt Clarke's eyes on him. He gazed back into her shifting blue irises and tried to express through a look how he felt. He thought that Clarke understood, as the gentlest smile crept over her face. The evening sun was setting her hair aglow and her cheeks were rosy against the golden shine.

"I don't want you to feel sorry for me," she said earnestly.

"Sorry for you? I-"

"You have struggled through so many things in your life too, things that I can't even start to imagine!" she said, looking fretful.

"Clarke! It's not-" Bellamy struggled to put into words what he felt. It was true that she had had a better life than him, what with parents that had legitimate jobs and always enough money, but that didn't mean he deserved her pity anymore than she deserved his.

"It's not about that. My life was always shitty. I was born into it and I never knew it any different. I never had a dad, and I always wondered what that would have been like, but not having a dad also meant that I never have to go through the pain of losing one."

Clarke didn't look convinced, but she nodded nonetheless.

"We're just different, is all. We have had different lives, but here, at this point right now, or lives are, are intersecting, and we can make the most of that," He said as they reached the other side of the road.

That made Clarke smile, which immediately brightened his mood. "Put like a true poet, Blake."

"Hmm. I don't like that."

"What? Being a poet? I think it's good to be, well, _good_, with words, makes you sound sophisticated."

"No, not being a poet. I meant Blake."

Clarke peered up at him, confused. "You don't like your last name?"

Bellamy couldn't help but chuckle. "No, Clarke. I like my last name fine. I just don't like when you say it."

"I'm not following," Clarke replied, sidestepping closer to Bellamy as a large group of men dressed as if for a bachelor party passed by. Close enough that her hair brushed his bare arm and he could smell that sweet scent that hung about her like an aura.

"No, it's just so _informal._ And I thought we were friends."

"We are friends," Clarke said firmly, clearly not getting his point.

"I don't want you to call me Blake because that's what old men call me. Like, '_Blake, come 'er.' _"

"Like your football coach?" she asked.

"Yeah, if I had played football he probably would have called me Blake."

"You didn't play football?" Clarke asked, sounding surprised.

"No. Too busy working."

"Aww. You would have been a great flyback."

"Flyback, eh?"

"Yeah, you're sturdy without being stocky. I bet you can move pretty quick, too. You'd be intimidating enough without being an absolute slug on the field."

"Thanks, Princess. I didn't know you were into football so much."

"Oh, I've always liked sports. It was one of the things my dad and I always did together. We'd watch every single game on TV, football, hockey, basketball, baseball…"

"That's nice. And yeah, you're right. I would have been the best damn flyback ever."

"You would have been. Probably would have been recruited, too. Hell! It could be you I was going to watch play tomorrow!"

Bellamy chuckled and smiled wistfully at Clarke. In truth, he had always wanted to play football, and he had played in elementary and middle school, but once highschool rolled around, there had simply been no time in his busy life schedule for extracurriculars. Talking about it now, he felt like an old man, looking back on his life, when in reality, he was still young with most of his life stretching out ahead of him like an untrodden path, ready and waiting to be discovered.

They walked on for a moment, with Clarke staring up at the buildings and looking into windows.

"But back to this Blake thing," she continued. "I only tried calling you that because you have a nickname for me, so I wanted one for you." Bellamy nodded. "And the most logical nickname for you would be Bell, but Octavia calls you that, so I wanted something better."

"Hmm."

"But, you say you don't like it! So I guess it's back to the drawing board."

"I guess so."

"But I need more material! What's your middle name? I was going to ask Octavia, but I didn't want her getting all weird like Raven has been."

"Raven's been weird?" Bellamy asked, slightly concerned. Was Clarke's roommate suspecting something about Finn?

"Yeah, you know how she is…" Clarke said faintly as again her cheeks glowed rosy.

"Ohh, because she thinks that you and I are… awfully close," Bellamy said slyly, rather liking Clarke's bashful reaction.

"Yeah, but anyway, don't change the topic! What's your middle name?"

Bellamy frowned. His middle name wasn't something he often discussed.

Clarke gauged his reaction. "What, is it embarrassing or something?

"No, it's Alexander."

"Bellamy Alexander Blake," Clarke said and Bellamy shivered at the way his full name rolled off her tongue. No one had ever said his name like that and he never wanted anyone else to.

"I like it," Clarke said decisively. "Is there a meaning behind it?"

"Yeah."

Clarke waited for him to go on. Bellamy had never told anyone the meaning behind his middle name, as he'd never been asked to, probably because he never even told anyone what it was.

"My mother always used to read me Greek Mythology, you know, and I read it to Octavia. That's where her name came from too."

"I didn't know there was an Alexander in Mythology? All I know is Alexander the Great, but I thought he was the King of Macedonia."

"Macedon," Bellamy corrected gently.

"Right, Mr. History."

He chuckled and bumped into her, to which she stuck her tongue out at him in reply.

"Anyway, Alexander or he's otherwise called Alexandros, was the son of King Priam, he's the one who eloped with Helen of Troy and caused the whole Trojan War."

"I thought that was…" Claarke donned her thinking face once again as she searched for the more common name of the mythological figure. Bellamy didn't offer her any hints so he could watch the way her mouth screwed to one side and her brows drew together, shading her blue eyes.

She thought for a moment more, then shouted out, "Paris!"

"Bingo," Bellamy praised and she smiled, looking pleased.

"Well okay then, Paris. How close are we to this place?"

"Uh, right on this next corner."

"Perfect."

They walked a little bit further before Bellamy stopped Clarke in front of a building. She squinted up at the lettering above the door.

"Matt's Bar and Grill?" she asked.

"Yep," Bellamy led her up to the door and ushered her into the bar, which was quite packed on a Friday night.

They were greeted by a bubbly woman at the entrance. "Welcome to Matt's Bar and Grill, home of the Original Jucy Lucy. Table for two?"

"Yes, please," Bellamy said.

"You're in luck, just cleared one off!" She said, motioning for them to follow her. "I'm Ella, I'll be your waitress tonight." She set a couple of menus down on a high topped table. "Go ahead and get settled and I'll be back in just a moment to take your drink orders."

"Thank you, Ella," Clarke said kindly to the girl as she retreated to the packed bar.

Bellamy pulled out Clarke's chair for her and she gave him a surprised, pleased look and a, "Thank you, Paris."

"Paris? That's what you're going with?" Bellamy questioned. He certainly wasn't complaining. It was a nickname that was more meaningful than just a shortening of his name.

"I think so," Clarke said. "Although I do like Alex. Then Al for short."

"You have a nickname for a nickname?"

"Mm hmm," Clarke said, picking up a menu. "I need a couple days to decide, or I could just use both."

"Alright, let me know once you've got it figured out."

Bellamy realized he couldn't seem to wipe the grin off his face, even if he tried. This was so unlike him, to be almost _giddy_. He watched Clarke examine her menu over the top of his own, her eyes tracing back and forth across the page.

"Jucy Lucy? Why's it spelled like that? What even is it?"

"It's spelled like that because Matt's is the original creator, so they spelled it J-U-C-Y so people know it's the real deal, and any spelled J-U-I-C-Y are knock offs."

"Oh," Clarke said. "It's a _hamburger?"_

Bellamy laughed at her face. "No, it's a _cheese_burger. And it's not just any cheeseburger. What makes it special is that the cheese is on the _inside,_" Bellamy explained, pointing to a picture on the front of the menu which depicted the oozing patty.

"But- why?" Clarke looked perplexed and faintly amused.

"I dunno. But I do know that it is quintessentially Minnesotan."

"I'll take your word for it."

"Take my word for it? Oh no, you're going to try it. And you'll love it."

She raised a brow, as if to say, '_Oh really?'_

Ella, the waitress, returned with her pad of paper and a sweet smile, which was equally directed between the two, which Bellamy appreciated.

"Alright, can I get you something with something to drink? We have Angry Orchard, Grain Belt Premium, Bell's Two Hearted Ale, Fulton Lonely Blonde and Blue Moon on tap, and domestic beers in bottles, or coke products."

"Uh I'll just have a water, please." Clarke said politely, looking at Bellamy with a raised brow, clearly wondering whether he was going to get an alcoholic beverage.

"I'll do a Coke."

"Sure, thing, I'll be right back with that," Ella said and whisked off again.

"Forgot your fake?" Clarke asked.

"No, uh. Not much of a draft guy."

"What? You like IPAs or something?"

Bellamy wasn't sure what Clarke was getting at, which made him a bit uncomfortable.

"Just, not in the mood for beer tonight, I guess."

"Hmm. I don't mind, if you drink, so don't think you can't-"

"No, it's not that Clarke," Bellamy said firmly and Clarke stopped mid sentence, her mouth still open.

"Okay."

"And anyway, I don't even have a fake ID."

"You don't?" She seemed shocked. Bellamy felt his lips twitch, then he realized that Clarke still didn't know how old he was. Was that what she was getting at? He had told her that he was a bit older than the typical college freshman, but she didn't know the number.

"No, I mean, I used to, but even then I didn't really use it. You have to have friends to go out with."

"Oh!" she chastised. "Don't even try and tell me you didn't have friends."

He smiled at her as she shook her head. "I had a few friends."

"Of course you did. Who wouldn't want to be friends with the great Bellamy Alexander?" She teased, throwing the title he'd used earlier that evening back at him.

"No one."

"Exactly."

"Alright, here you are," Ella placed their drinks down on the table and pulled out a couple of paper wrapped straws from her apron. "Ready to order or do you need a few more minutes?"

"No, we're ready," Bellamy answered quickly before Clarke could. "We'll do two Jucy Lucys and an order of fries."

"Good choice! I'll put the order in for you right away." She picked up the menus and slipped off to the next table.

"Bellamy!"

"What?" He said innocently, sliding his Coke across the table. A second later, he was hit in between the eyes with a straw wrapper.

His head snapped up to see Clarke, looking smug, as she lowered the straw from her lips.

"Hey now!"

"Huh? Did you see that? Someone must have thrown that at you? How rude!" Clarke turned around in her chair, peering over her shoulder as if to spot the imaginary perpetrator.

Bellamy shook his head and Clarke turned back around with a shrug and put her straw into her water.

"That was crazy. Let me just say that people back in Oregon would never have dared to be so crass."

"Crass? Minnesota is the nicest state in the nation. Have you not heard our slogan? People literally say, 'Minnesota Nice'."

"Hmm. Guess not," Clarke's eyes were bright, clearly she was enjoying teasing Bellamy and he didn't mind it one bit. It had been _years _since he'd bantered back and forth with anyone like this.

"Well, you'll just have to get out more."

"I s'pose I will."

They both took long drinks of their beverages and took in the restaurant. The atmosphere was warm and surprisingly family friendly for a bar. People chatted, leaning against the walls with pints of amber beer in their hands while a couple of young boys wove their way between the adults' legs, playing a game of tag.

"Thanks for agreeing to do something tonight," Clarke spoke up, drawing Bellamy's attention from a guy at the bar who looked oddly familiar.

"Of course, Princess," Clarke smiled at the nickname.

"So, tell me, Alex. If you don't have a fake anymore, how do you get into bars?"

"Well, I told you, I'm older than the usual freshman."

"You're already 21?" Clarke looked a bit confused, which made Bellamy reluctant to say what he needed to say next.

"Yeah, I actually just turned 23 in July."

Clarke's eyes widened almost comically, and Bellamy would have laughed if he wasn't scared about what she was going to say next.

"You're 23?"

"Uh, yep."

"Huh," She sat back in her chair, expression changing from flabbergasted to reserved. Bellamy could feel his heart thumping in his chest. Why had he said anything? What if Clarke got scared of him now? _Shut up, it's not going to matter. She won't care. _But what if she does?

"Yeah, I'm five years older than Octavia, almost six really. She won't be nineteen until May."

"I see," Clarke said.

"When's your birthday?" Bellamy asked, sensing Clarke's uncertainty on what to say next. She leaned forward again, but before she could answer Bellamy sporadically shouted out, "Wait, let me guess. I've got a thing for guessing birthdays."

"Okay, have at it, Paris," Clarke said and Bellamy was instantly soothed by the nickname. She wasn't going to shy away from him.

"Hmm," Bellamy made a show of studying Clarke from all angles, sticking out his tongue, and even holding his hands out as if to measure her face. She giggled and asked,

"Is this scientific?"

"Oh, absolutely. Proven time and time again." Bellamy sat up straight and said, "October."

Clarke's eye widened and he knew he'd gotten it right.

"No way. What day?"

Bellamy put on a thoughtful expression. October had been purely a guess. A lucky one.

"October 8th."

Clarke looked shocked.

"No way, I actually got it right?" Bellamy asked.

"Nearly! October 9th."

"Aww, so close!" Bellamy rapped his fist on the table, but Clarke still seemed impressed.

"Who told you?"

"What?"

"There is no way you guessed so close. That's insane."

"What did I say? I've got a talent."

"I guess so."

"So it would be October 9th, 1999?"

Clarke nodded. "Yep, ten nine 'ninety-nine."

Bellamy smiled. "That has a nice ring to it. Ten nine ninety-nine."

"It does."

Clarke tried to guess the date of Bellamy's birthday, but was way off. It was July 3rd, 1995. Then they talked about college football, and Bellamy was thoroughly impressed with Clarke's knowledge about the teams. She was chattering on about Oregon Ducks and the Oregon State University Beavers when Ella brought out their meal.

"Here you are," She said, setting down the plates. "Is this your guys' first date?"

Bellamy's eyes flashed up to the waitress as Clarke cleared her throat.

"Oh no, we're just friends," Bellamy said with a smile.

"Ope, sorry! I just assumed, I heard you guys played the 'guess my birthday' game."

"It's no problem. Thanks, Ella."

"Sure thing, enjoy and let me know if you need anything." Ella hurried away, and Bellamy noted a bit of embarrassment on her face. He felt a bit bad, but perhaps she shouldn't have said something like that. Bellamy looked over to Clarke, seeing immediately the flush in her cheeks due to her pale skin.

"Is that how you guys show your 'Minnesota Nice'? By getting into other people's business?" she questioned.

Bellamy cringed, hoping this wouldn't ruin the good time they had been having.

"Usually, no. Sorry if that made you uncomfortable"

"Don't worry about it," Clarke reached out and grabbed a fry. "These are good!" She said, pushing the incident behind them. Bellamy smiled appreciatively. Clarke was so sweet and easygoing, he didn't even know why he had questioned her in the first place. There was something about her that was so unlike any other girl he had ever met. He mentally berated himself for how cliche that sounded, but God help him, it was true.

"Are you meant to cut it in half?" She asked, picking up her burger.

"No! Half the fun is seeing if you can bite into it far enough to reach the cheese on your first try," Bellamy said, picking up his own Jucy Lucy and demonstrating, practically unhinging his jaw to take a massive bite out of the burger. Clarke looked on, clearly amused and Bellamy turned the burger towards her, so she could see the molten cheese oozing from the patty.

"Good work," she said through a wide smile. "I don't know if I can, but I'll give it my best shot."

Bellamy tried not to choke on the absurd amount of food in his mouth as Clarke took a huge bite from her own burger. The way her eyes lit up when she turned it for Bellamy to see that she had achieved the goal cemented it for him. Clarke was so unlike anyone else he had met, and all in the best ways.

**Okay this chapter got a little bit longer than I originally intended. It is ****definitely**** the longest chapter thus far. I didn't even have this as part of my overall plan, but I want to challenge myself and work on dialogue, because I feel that is one of the weak points in my writing, so I set out to do just that. And then I just kept going, because I kept thinking of more and more things I wanted Clarke and Bellamy to talk about, so it just kept growing and growing. **

**I hope it doesn't seem too scattered, but I thought we would all enjoy a little bit of Bellarke fluff. **

**Also, I don't know if The 100 has real birthdays or middle names for the characters, so I just made up my own. If there are official ones, please excuse my fabricated names and dates. **

**I would appreciate any feedback you have to give about my dialogue, whether it be criticism or praise, as my main ambition is to better myself as a writer. **

**And I just want to give a huge thank you to my wonderful beta, ****kyliEisMC2. Huge round of applause, you help me out so much and I will never say thank you enough. **

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Birch66724**


	23. Chapter 23

"Bellamy, I am not going to let you pay for it all!" Clarke protested, fumbling in her back pocket for her folded money she'd stashed there before they'd left.

"It's 26 dollars, Princess. Relax," Bellamy said, sliding his crisp bills onto the plate with the check.

"I'll pay half," Clarke insisted, trying to smooth out a crumpled ten dollar bill. Once she was satisfied, she looked to see Bellamy sending the waitress off with a smile. He looked back at her, victorious.

Clarke groaned, but she couldn't stay mad at him. Not that she was really even mad in the first place, but it just wasn't fair of Bellamy to pay for her dinner.

"No. I ate most of the food anyway. And you got a water!"

"Fine. But I'm leaving the tip."

Bellamy narrowed his eyes as if he didn't like that either, but Clarke fixed him with a glare and he held his hands up in surrender.

"What's 20 percent?" Clarke asked.

Bellamy frowned. "Don't you just move the decimal back one place?" He made a swooping motion with his finger in the air.

"No… that would be 10 percent."

"Then just double it! So, moving the decimal would be two-sixty, and then double, would be four… and sixty and sixty is one-eighty, no twenty, so five and…"

Clarke couldn't contain her amusement as Bellamy's attempt at mental math. They way he held up his hands and stared into the air, as if visualizing the numbers written there and he was moving them around. His dark brows knit together and he thought aloud while tendrils of black hair curled on his forehead.

"What? C'mon Princess, you know I suck at math." Bellamy dropped his hands to the table, defeated.

"You do not! You're just more of a visual thinker, and that's not a bad thing."

"I think my Algebra professor would disagree," he grumbled and Clarke smiled, patting his hand across the table. He looked up at her with puppy eyes again. They were much better this time, when he wasn't trying so hard.

"I'm sure she's just a hardass."

"Yeah, you're right."

"I'll just leave the ten, she was nice." Clarke decided, trying to crease the bill in the middle so it would stand up, but it was too flimsy from the mistreatment it had suffered in her pocket.

"Yeah, she was. Apart from her presumptuous comments."

"_Comment_," Clarke corrected. "She only said one thing. And you know, it isn't her fault, what was she supposed to assume?" As the words left her mouth, Clarke didn't know why she said them.

"Oh?" Bellamy said as he stood from his seat.

"I guess," Clarke said, using the opportunity to turn away from him, because she knew her face was getting red again, for what? The thirtieth time tonight? Damn pale skin. Why couldn't she have Raven's dark, tan skin, or even Bellamy's freckles to blanket her cheeks?

The bar had gotten a bit roudier as the night progressed, single men replacing the families who had been eating dinner together. The kid's menus and crayons were replaced by wine lists and bottles of Natural Lite. It was starting to set Clarke on edge a bit.

"Let's get outta here, Princess," Bellamy said, stepping in front of her as a pair of guys stumbled past, one of them lurching towards Clarke with a look. That was until he saw Bellamy… then his expression quickly sobered and he scampered off to where his buddy was laughing his ass off.

"Yeah," Clarke agreed, feeling soothed when Bellamy draped a hand on her shoulder and guided her towards the door.

"Have a good night, you two!" Ella called from the hostess stand in the entrance, and Clarke smiled kindly at her.

"You too," Bellamy said, pulling open the door. The reprieve of cool night air washed over Clarke's face like a wave, making her close her eyes and take a deep breath, filling her lungs and cooling her from the inside out.

She opened her eyes to see Bellamy watching her.

"Gettin' a little stuffy in there?" He asked with a slight smile.

"You could say that," Clarke agreed. "But the city doesn't smell as good as it did back home."

"I bet not."

"It smells like cigarettes and gasoline and booze."

"Maybe because we're standing outside a bar?" Bellamy suggested and Clarke shot him a look as they started walking.

"You might have a point."

"Might?"

Clarke groaned and picked up their pace. Bellamy followed her lead.

"What's the hurry, you got a hot date tonight?" He joked, then he paused. Clarke felt a jab of panic, then one of guilt. She absolutely hated the way Bellamy tiptoed around her.

She glanced back at him, her eyes tracing the way the shadows lay over his face. She could see his earnest brown eyes and pinched brows.

"Nope," she said, turning away from him. "I just got done with one."

"O-oh," Bellamy said, returning to her side. Clarke definitely heard the way his voice faltered, and she was glad for the streak of confidence she'd had that allowed her to say the quip, even if she couldn't look Bellamy in the eyes when she said it.

"Just joking, of course," she said before an uncomfortable silence could settle over them.

"Yeah, I know."

"But, it was pretty cool how you made that dude practically piss himself," Clarke giggled at the memory of a few minutes ago.

"Who wouldn't be scared of guns like these?"

"Guns?" Clarke's head whipped around, concerned, only to be met with the sight of Bellamy flexing his biceps. He immediately started laughing, pointing at her.

"Clarke, you thought I meant real _guns? _What, do you think I carry a .50 Desert Eagle in my waistband or something?"

"I don't know what you do! Maybe you're more of a Glock-19 in an ankle holster kind of guy." She defended herself weakly, trying to put on an offended expression. Bellamy was slapping his knee like this was the funniest thing that'd ever happened to him, so Clarke whacked him in the chest.

He sprung upright and asked, "What? Want to feel my _guns?" _

"No you weirdo! I want to go home."

"Fine. Buzzkill." Bellamy scoffed and Clarke hit him again, but retracting her hand, she felt as though it probably hurt her more than it did him. He was rather well muscled, despite the lack of exercise Clarke had seen in his life.

"I am not a buzzkill. You're just weird."

"Call it what you will," he said loftily and Clarke side eyed him and challenged;

"Where'd you even get muscles from? Steroids? Because I've never seen you work out once."

"Oh Princess, there is a lot you don't know about me."

"Really? How mysterious."

"Uh huh. I fit that saying, you know."

"Saying?" Clarke questioned.

"Yeah, you know, tall, dark, and mysterious."

"I'm pretty sure that it's _tall, dark and handsome," _Clarke corrected.

Bellamy grinned. "Oh, you think I'm handsome, Princess?"

Clarke turned to him, taking in his smug look, realizing she'd fallen into the trap he'd set for her.

"You brat," Clarke scoffed.

"I believe I asked you a question," He pressed and Clarke felt her stomach flutter. As soon as she felt it, she shoved it down. Catching feelings for this guy, who was _twenty-three, _who was her roommate's brother, who was the only one who knew her secrets, who lived in the dorm right below hers, was not something she should be doing right now. Only, the answer that left her mouth wasn't helping the facts she'd just convinced herself of.

"I think you know that answer to that, Paris."

Bellamy didn't respond and Clarke kept looking straight ahead, noticing for the first time how dark and shadowed the streets were. It felt like someone had turned on the adrenaline drip into her IV as she became hyper aware of the alleyways and black recesses, and she was already high strung.

A swift breeze blew around the corner of a building and Clarke shivered, crossing her arms firmly across her chest and gripping the backs of her upper arms with her hands.

"Cold?" Bellamy asked.

"A bit chilly," She replied, then added, "But it's your fault, because you told me I could dress like this. You didn't tell me to bring a jacket!"

"Oh okay, just blame all your problems on me!" Bellamy said, returning to the playful back-and-forth banter they'd shared all evening.

"Well, it's someone's fault, and it sure as heck isn't mine," Clarke replied.

"Hmm, you know, if I had a jacket, I would do the polite thing and offer it to you, but you didn't remind me to bring mine either."

"Chivalry isn't dead, look at that."

" 'Course not. There's still good guys left in the world, Clarke."

Clarke looked up to Bellamy as he smiled softly down on her. It was strange how their conversations could slip so easily from teasing to serious, and Clarke's emotions often couldn't keep up.

"I hope so." She finally responded, unsure of what else to say.

"I know so." Bellamy said firmly, and they walked on.

Thoughts were swirling like a windstorm in Clarke's head, and she was trying to reach out and grab hold of them, make them tangible and understandable, but they all slipped through her fingers, leaving nothing but residual feelings. Confusion, anger, security, guilt, exhaustion.

One moment she had been laughing on the street with Bellamy, and the next… she didn't know where she was. It was like walls had risen up around her and suddenly, she was trapped in her own dark mind. She stumbled blindly, feeling like only a vessel for the endless barage of emotions thundering through her.

Clarke was so caught up in her own head that she didn't realize Bellamy was no longer at her side as she stepped off the curb onto the street.

A hand reached out and grabbed her shoulder and Clarke choked on a scream as she was yanked backwards.

"Clarke!" Bellamy's voice broke through to her. What was going on? She shoved against the arms holding her, but they were strong, unrelenting. Her eyes felt like they were lagging behind the rest of her head as she tried to look around.

A car flew past, mere inches from Clarke, so close the acrid wave of air washed over her and sent her hair fluttering around like it was caught in a gale.

"Jesus, Clarke!"

Clarke scrambled back from the road, watching the red taillights of the car disappear around the corner with the squeal of tires. The arms that held her back no longer felt like constraints, but a safety net that had snagged her from yet another near fatal event.

"Clarke are you alright? Shit. Come 'ere." Bellamy pulled Clarke away from the curb, his arms wrapped securely around her whole torso. She clutched his forearm and couldn't tear her eyes from the spot where the car disappeared.

"Sit down for a second," Bellamy said, pulling her down and she sat nearly on his lap before he shifted her to the side, though her legs remained draped over his. One arm remained wrapped over her shoulders, holding her upright. Was that her heart racing, or Bellamy's?

Clarke was struggling to comprehend what just happened. Surely it had taken only ten seconds, but her brain was struggling to slog through the series of sights and sounds, to piece them together like a patchwork quilt that would explain the event.

"Clarke?" Bellamy's voice penetrated the hazy fog and she turned to him. His face was all unmasked concern and fear. His dark features shone oddly in the yellow glow of the streetlamp on the corner, his eyes glowing a sort of honey color.

"Hey, hey, it's alright." He said softly, and it was like the dark walls vanished and Clarke could reenter her own mind. She was aware of the way her body was shaking, she was aware of the way she was gasping for breath, she was aware of the way she was still clinging to Bellamy's wrist like it was the last tether to this planet.

"How many times are you going to save my life?" she choked out. Bellamy's lopsided smile crept onto his face and he hugged Clarke closer to him.

"As many times as necessary," He said into her hair before releasing her slightly so he could look at her face. Clarke didn't want him to release her.

"Thanks. I- I don't know what just happened."

"Some jackass came flying around the corner in his Dodge Charger and nearly took you out. Who the hell drives like that in the city? What a fucking idiot."

Clarke was surprised at the heat in Bellamy's tone. She'd never heard him curse like that before.

"I should have been looking where I was going. I was so.."

"That was _not _your fault, Princess. That dumbass was going at least thirty around that corner. He didn't even slow down."

Clarke took a shuddering inhalation and bit her lip as she attempted to slow her racing heart. Contrary to her attempts, it beat faster, not in response to her near death experience, but to the proximity to her rescuer. His woodsy scent washed over her and she could feel the rise and fall of Bellamy's chest against her side.

Clarke pulled her legs off his lap and Bellamy released her, slightly startled by her sudden movement.

"Y'alright?"

"Yeah...I just want to get home now," Clarke said, clutching the underside of the bench seat and staring at a crack in the concrete. Her shoulders felt freezing in the absence of Bellamy's arm.

"Sure, c'mon Clarke." Bellamy stood and offered her his hand. She looked up into his face as she took his outstretched hand.

"Thanks again," Clarke said.

"You're wearing out the word again," Bellamy warned and Clarke groaned.

"Someday, I'll pay you back for everything," she said earnestly. Bellamy only leaned his head slightly to one side and smiled softly, and Clarke felt as if she couldn't drop his hand, even now that she was on her feet.

So, she interlaced her fingers into Bellamy's and said; "Would you mind keeping me from walking into oncoming traffic again, Alexander?"

"It would be my pleasure… Wait! You never told me your middle name, Clarke."

"I've got to keep at least _some _secrets," she protested.

"Hmphf. I'll figure it out."

"Good luck."

"Why? Is it some weird name? Not like Marie or Anne or Mary?"

"I dunno," Clarke said as they reached the other side of the street.

Bellamy squeezed her hand tighter as he made his next guess. "It's Rose, isn't it? Clarke Rose Griffin, that sounds nice."

Clarke shook her head, too absorbed in the feeling of Bellamy's thumb gently brushing along her pointer finger to reply aloud. She didn't think he even realized he was doing it, rubbing his calloused knuckle along the smooth white skin, but she was captivated by the sensation.

"I'll ask Raven. She'll know, I bet." Bellamy decided.

"I don't think she does, actually."

"Damn. I'll just have to get you to tell me."

"Another time."

"Another time," Bellamy relented. "Still want to go to the game tomorrow?"

"Absolutely," Clarke replied. "Do you think it's too late to get tickets?"

"Nah, they have a reserved section for students. I'll get it figured out in the morning, don't worry about it."

"Thanks. Will Octavia want to go? I'm sure Raven will. I don't really see Monty and Jasper as sports fans, but maybe. You should ask them. And Harper'll go if Monty does. And what about Miller and Murphy? I bet they already have tickets, they seem very into sports." Clarke started rambling to distract herself from the stifling closeness of Bellamy. In all truthfulness, she wouldn't be disappointed if it ended up being just her and Bellamy, but she figured Bellamy would want to invite everybody.

"I'm sure," Bellamy said lightly. Clarke looked up at him but he stared straight ahead.

"I'll ask. Let you know later," Clarke said softly. They were back onto the campus now, where the streetlights were a bit closer together and the blue emergency assistance posts lit up each corner. Students were milling around, some late night studiers and some early partiers. There was no doubt that the designated campus area felt a lot safer than the city surrounding it, but the darkness and unfamiliar figures still unsettled Clarke. She didn't want to let go of Bellamy's hand, and he didn't seem to mind.

"You know Clarke, I was thinking…" Bellamy started.

Clarke felt her chest seize. "What?"

"They have a lot of- I don't know what they call them, counselors, I guess, on campus. They say they're free and confidential to all students. Maybe that would help you? To go talk to someone about...everything."

Clarke felt a shiver travel down her spine and the mere thought of telling anyone about what had happened. It was quickly followed by a sharp jab of… was it _betrayal? _Why did she feel betrayed by Bellamy? Surely he was only trying to help… that was all he'd even been doing.

"No thank you," Clarke said tightly.

"That's fine. I just wanted to put it out there, so you could think about it."

His hand felt more like a vice than a comfort now, and Clarke could see Frontier Hall up ahead, so she pulled free. He seemed reluctant to let her go, gazing down at her while Clarke refused to return his look.

"Thanks, but I'm fine." Clarke said coldly, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

"Okay."

Was this what she got for depending on Bellamy so much? Of course it was. She was simply too much for him to handle, so he was trying to off load her to some campus counselor, who was probably just another student in an internship position trying to gain some free experience. It was just a nicer way of saying, '_Clarke, you're way too much work, figure it out.'"_

Even the thought of those words crossing Bellamy's lips were enough to make Clarke's knees tremble. He had been her biggest support, her confidant, her best friend these past two weeks, and she knew she depended on him too much. Now he had come to the same realization and it broke Clarke all over again.

They didn't speak until the elevator doors opened onto the fourth floor. Bellamy walked Clarke down the hall, which made her feel even worse. He was too nice of a guy to just ditch her, now she'd wrangled him in with guilt and pity, which was the last thing she wanted.

"Thanks for supper. I'll pay you back sometime."

"Don't worry about it," Bellamy said, and the look in his eyes was enough to make Clarke doubt what she'd been thinking about for a second, but only for a second.

She looked down at the door. "Let me know about the tickets, or if you don't want to go, that's cool."

"What? Of course I want to go!" Bellamy said quickly.

"Okay," Clarke said. "Goodnight, Paris." She had to use the nickname at least one more time. She'd just come up with it, afterall.

"Goodnight, Princess. See you tomorrow."

Clarke slowly let herself into her dorm as she listened to Bellamy's retreating footsteps, muffled on the carpet. Maybe she was wrong? He seemed pretty enthusiastic about the game tomorrow. But, they wouldn't be alone, and what boy would say no to a football game? That was all it was.

The dorm was dark and quiet. The air conditioning hummed from somewhere in the wall and Raven's little bedside clock ticked away, one second after the next.

Double checking the bathroom and the adjoining dorm, Clarke confirmed she was alone; all of her friends were out doing normal, college things. She sat down on her bed and mulled over her evening. It had been a good night, great even, until the last ten minutes.

Clarke showered and brushed her teeth before snuggling into bed with her laptop to watch a movie. She must have dozed off, because she woke up when Raven returned, Octavia and Harper in tow. Clarke wondered how they'd all ended up together, because she'd thought they all went out in separate ways, but it didn't matter, she needed to talk to all of them.

They all gave their enthusiastic agreement to go to the football game tomorrow, and Harper even produced a couple of tubes of face paint in the maroon and gold colors of their school.

Clarke texted Bellamy, but he never replied. She assumed he'd read the message and felt no need to reply. The message didn't really warrant a response she supposed. He deserved to go to sleep, he was probably worn out from catering to Clarke all evening.

She listened halfhearted as the girls retolded their night's experiences from where they had settled around on Clarke's bed. Raven and Octavia had gone to that bar where The Grounder's dodgeball team had invited them to the precious weekend, but they wouldn't serve them, even with their fakes. Octavia complained about it but Raven just shrugged, saying she'd be zonked out right now if she'd been drinking anyway. Harper had gone with Monty to the Science Museum of Minnesota, then out to dinner once they were kicked out of the exhibit at closing time.

Raven teased Harper until she blushed and Clarke smiled at her friends, thankful they didn't ask what she had done, assuming she'd just spent the night in. She knew she couldn't lie to them, and she didn't want to incur Octavia's wrath upon Bellamy or rouse Raven's suspicions even more, or Clarke would suffer the same treatment Harper had.

While Raven tried to beat down the bathroom door after Octavia got in the shower before Raven could brush her teeth, Clarke fell into a fitful sleep.

**AN_**

**Hello folks! My apologies for how long it has been since my last update... Life has been CRAZY hectic lately and writing has had to take the back burner in my life for the time being. :( I hope that is understandable, and by no means does it mean I will not continue this story. Rest assured there are many more chapters to come. Stay safe and healthy everyone, and, as always, **

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Birch66724**


	24. Chapter 24

"Raven, I'm serious, if you tell him, I'll actually kill you."

Clarke woke up to the same sound she fell asleep to, Octavia and Raven arguing. Why they had to do it in her side of the dorm was beyond her, but she was awake now.

"Yeah? Well if he asks me, I'm not going to lie to him."

"Oh, for God's sake what the hell do you think he's going to ask you? '_Raven, what is Octavia's biggest secret?' _No!"

Well that just got more interesting. Clarke kept her eyes closed and listened, wondering what had happened last night between them? It didn't seem like anything was amiss when they came home, but then again, Clarke was a bit wrapped up in herself. With that thought, the pressing guilt and loneliness came rushing back, but Clarke swallowed them down.

"I don't know!" Raven shouted

"I don't either!"

"Just, I'm not going to tell lies, is all."

"I'm not asking you to. I'm just asking you to keep this to yourself," Octavia was losing steam.

Raven grumbled. "Why'd you even invite me to join you last night if you didn't want anyone to know?"

"I dunno. I didn't want to go alone," Octavia muttered.

"Why? Are you scared of him or something? Octavia?" Raven asked, her voice no longer irritated.

Who were they talking about? Clarke had no idea what was going on, except that Octavia was hiding something, something she didn't want Raven to tell Bellamy.

"No, it's not that. He just gets busy at work sometimes, and I don't like to sit there alone, and you didn't have anything to do after Finn backed out on you-"

"Jackass," Raven cursed.

"Yeah, he's an ass."

Clarke couldn't agree more.

"But that's it, I promise," Octavia said.

"Okay. I had fun, so thanks. And you know I won't tell Bellamy."

"Thanks."

Clarke thought she heard them hug and was glad they met a resolution, even if she didn't know what it was. What was Octavia hiding from Bellamy? It couldn't be that she was at a bar, because they'd said they didn't even drink. They weren't impaired with any other sort of drug when they came home either, so that was out. Clarke was drawing a blank, but she was interrupted from thinking about it any longer as Octavia shook her awake.

"Better wake up, Clarke. Bell said he got us tickets and we're meeting in the lobby at two."

Clarke opened her eyes and yawned. "I thought the game wasn't til 6?"

"It's not but the boys want to go out to eat or something, and Bell says we've got to get there by four so..."

"Four?"

Octavia just shrugged and pulled her phone from her back pocket. "He's crazy about his football. And knowing this group, it's probably good he said so early because we'll be an hour late."

"Yeah, good point." Clarke grabbed her phone as Octavia started yelling for Harper to find a U of M shirt for Monty to wear because Jasper used his to soak up spilled iced tea last night.

She had a couple of texts from Bellamy. He must have replied after she'd fallen asleep.

_B: Perfect. _

_B: I talked to Miller and got us all hooked up in the same row. _

_B: I'll communicate with Octavia about the plans. C U later, P._

Clarke rolled her eyes at his texting lingo. She knew he only did it to tick her off, which it really didn't. Not anymore, now it was just a joke between them.

_C: Sounds good. How much do I owe you?_

_B: Don't worry about it. And don't reply to this message! I'm warning you, Clarke._

Clarke groaned at Bellamy's instantaneous reply. She'd pay him back sooner or later.

"Clarke!" Harper ran into the room. "Will you let me braid your hair? So we can all match? And look! I even have ribbons to tie the ends with!" She held up several lengths of maroon and sparkly gold ribbon.

Octavia and Raven appeared in the bathroom doorway, Raven vigorously shaking her head and Octavia making a slicing motion across her throat while they both shot pleading looks at Clarke.

Their opinion on the matter was clear, so Clarke smiled and said, "Sure, Harper!"

"Oh, yay! I told Raven and Octavia they wouldn't have to do it if you said no, _but she said yes!" _She yelled over her shoulder, but the two dark haired girls had disappeared after glaring at Clarke.

"Just let me get dressed quick."

Clarke pulled on her old University of Minnesota t-shirt and a pair of jean shorts, brushed her teeth, and then let Harper brush and braid her hair back in twin dutch braids that wrapped around the sides of her head. The tails of the braids rested on her collarbone, tied with one gold and one maroon ribbon each. The braids made Clarke feel twelve years old, but the delight on Harper's face and the enraged looks on Raven and Octavia's made it worth it.

Clarke forgot all about last night's upsetting feelings as she and Harper attempted to wrangle the other girls. They ran around and around the dorm, in and out of the bathroom and around through the hallway, shoving against locked doors and trying to trap them. They made a last ditch attempt to hide and barrade the bathroom doors, but Clarke and Harper eventually cornered them in the shower when they collapsed into a laughing heap.

Harper got their hair braided into submission and they sulked, but Clarke knew they were all having fun. Raven actually seemed to enjoy having her hair played with, if the placated look on her face was any indication.

It was nearly 2 PM, the designated meeting time, when Harper whipped out the face paint. Octavia was all over it, much to Harper's excitement. Clarke was more reluctant to the idea of becoming Octavia's canvas, and Raven was adamantly opposed.

"There is absolutely no way I'm doing those cliche as hell dots around my eyes! I'll feel like I'm back in high school, surrounded by cheerleader whores!"

Harper and Octavia both turned from the mirror, their guilty faces covered by alternating yellow and maroon polka dots, which snaked from under their left eyes, across the bridges of their noses, to above their right eyebrows.

Clarke cackled as Raven groaned, "You have got to be kidding me."

In the end, Raven agreed to have the M logo painted on each cheek, one in yellow and one in maroon. Somehow, Clarke ended up with both designs.

"C'mon Clarke! Bell is going to have our heads, it's already 2:12!"

"Coming!" Clarke said, stuffing her money and phone into her back pockets. She snagged her jacket off the back of her chair as she hurried out of the dorm and slammed the door shut behind her.

"Run!" Octavia yelled from where she was holding the elevator door. Clarke rolled her eyes and shook her head as she broke into a jog to catch the elevator as Octavia let the door go.

"Harper, did you remember the shirt for Monty?"

"Oh shoot! I knew I was forgetting something!"

"Welp, too late now," Octavia muttered, leading the way out of the elevator.

"Oh no," Harper murmured.

"It's alright," Clarke said, turning to her friend. "I'm sure he at least wore something maroon, or at least red."

"Where the hell did you get _those?" _Octavia had stopped dead in the middle of the lobby, causing Clarke to run into her. She peered around Octavia to see what she was making a fuss about, and immediately started snickering.

Standing before her were Murphy, Miller, and Bellamy, wearing the most atrocious articles of clothing she'd ever seen: baggy yellow and maroon pinstripe overalls.

Bellamy smirked as Octavia turned her appalled face back at the other three girls, who were all having a good laugh.

"They're game bibs" Miller said, as if it were obvious.

"Bellamy, there is no way I'm going to be seen in public with you looking like that."

"Oh, get over yourself. You look like Dorthy from the _Wizard of Oz_," Murphy quipped, tracing his fingers down the side of his head where the girls' braids were, and Octavia snapped back.

"At least I don't look like the lovechild of Old McDonald and a circus clown."

"Piss off. Why don't you click your heels and head back to Kansas?"

"Knock it off, you two. 'O', tons of people are going to be wearing stuff like this," Bellamy said reasonably.

"Yeah. He's right. Some guys even wear animal costumes."

"What?"

"That's why they call the student section _The Barnyard. _They always get on the jumbotron when they dress up like livestock," Monty explained. "Do you have my shirt, Harper?"

Harper shook her head regretfully.

"Out of all the shirts you could have picked, you wore a _Badger's_ jersey?" Raven asked.

"Seriously dude. You're gonna get jumped wearing that around here," Miller said.

Monty looked scared as he defended himself. "Bellamy said to just put on something red or yellow, and this was all I had!"

"I thought it would just be common sense not to wear a _Wisconsin_ jersey to a _Minnesota _game," Bellamy said.

"You can't very well wear that," Harper fretted, plucking at Monty's sleeves. "I can just run upstairs and see-"

"No! We're already twenty minutes late!" Murphy interjected.

Harper frowned, looking near tears. "I'm so sorry."

"It's fine. Here, just wear this, Monty." Bellamy unbuckled the fasteners on his overalls and slid his t-shirt off in one fluid motion. He tossed the inside out shirt to Monty and it hit him in the face before dropping down into his hands.

Clarke had to admit she was a bit captivated by the sight of Bellamy's bare chest and stomach.

"Bell! No!" Octavia scolded.

"Relax, 'O'," Bellamy said cooly, refastening one of the straps, meeting Clarke's eye as he did so. She instantly looked away and busied herself fixing the bow on one of Raven's braids to prevent her cheeks from blushing. It didn't work, but hopefully the face paint would disguise the redness.

"Oh, I like that look," Murphy said.

"You keep your clothes on," Octavia growled, and Murphy lifted his lip at her like a rabid dog.

"Okay, let's go," Bellamy said, waving his arms towards the door, herding the group outside into the breezy afternoon. The flag whipped on it's tether, the metal on the rope clanging against the pole with each gust.

Clarke was glad to have her hair braided back or else it would have been at the mercy of the wind, flying out of control all around her face.

"Where are we going?" Octavia asked.

"Yeah, I was wondering that too," Monty said.

"We are going to the one, the only, Buffalo Wild Wings. The only acceptable pregame spot. Complete with over twenty different flavors of chicken wings, the best french fries I've ever had, lots of Bud, and surrounded in flat-screen TVs," Miller said, looking pleased with his spiel.

"Chicken wings?" Octavia groaned.

"Chicken wings are _good," _Raven said and Murphy high fived her.

"Definitely. Now move," Bellamy gave his sister a little shove and she scoffed at him before starting down the sidewalk.

"Wrong way, 'O'!" Bellamy called after her and she spun on her heel.

"I knew that. Just testing you."

Bellamy rolled his eyes at her antics and followed after her. His bare shoulders were as suntanned and freckled at his face and arms; a clear indication that he spent time outdoors with his shirt off often.

Jasper and Murphy started in on a conversation about Family Guy while Clarke prayed it wouldn't be a repeat of the _Hey There Delilah _disagreement. They were keeping it civil for now, laughing over some episode they'd both seen once upon a time, back in high school with old friends in another state.

Clarke thought back to her own high school, and life back in Oregon. High school hadn't been the highlight of her life as it had been for some people. She'd mostly kept to herself, even before her dad passed away. After that, she'd become more withdrawn and people just hadn't bothered with her. She'd put her head down, gone to class each day, gotten straight A's, graduated top of her class, and gave a speech at graduation that was devoid of any emotion. It was a generic, _we have our whole lives in front of us, go out and live them!, _type of speech.

But all that was behind her now, she lived in Minneapolis now, and had a great group of new friends. She was attending the college of her dreams, and was on her way to her first college football game. It was slightly bittersweet, as Clarke always imagined her dad by her side for this moment. He'd been the one who bought her the shirt she was wearing now, several years ago when she'd first discovered the medical program at the U of M, and had fallen in love with the school. That had been only a few months before his accident…

"So, how'd you sleep?" Clarke was startled from her thoughts by Bellamy's voice. When he'd dropped back to walk beside her was beyond her.

"Uh, good," Clarke said lightly, not looking up at him.

"What were you thinking about?" he asked, clearly sensing her quiet mood.

"Nothing."

Bellamy clearly didn't believe her, but Clarke knew he wouldn't press. That made her feel guilty, so she told him.

"Sorry, I was thinking about my dad. We used to watch the Gopher's games together, and I always thought I'd go to my first game with him… but he's not here," Clarke sniffed.

"Oh, Princess." Bellamy looped an arm around her shoulders and it settled in place, the crook of his elbow hugging her shoulder into him, and it just felt so… _good.. _Clarke wanted to lay her head against his bare chest and let him comfort her, but no. She wasn't going to make him do that. Not anymore.

So she pulled away, even as her body was yearning to lean deeper into his touch, she pulled away.

Bellamy gave pause and his steady walking pace faltered. "I'm sorry, Clarke, I didn't mean to-"

"Don't be," she said quickly. "I'm fine Bellamy, really." Clarke finally mustered the courage to look at his face, which was glowing in the sunlight, highlighting his jawline and the gentle slope of his nose, and bore an upset expression, somewhere between concern and hurt and confusion. He was not making this any easier for Clarke.

"I know you are," he said carefully, as if treading on eggshells now, desperate not to crack them.

Clarke only nodded firmly and turned back around, ensuring their conversation had no onlookers or eavesdroppers. They didn't seem to, everyone else seemed to be caught up in easy chatter or laughter.

Then Bellamy said something that made Clarke freeze. "I'm sure your dad would be proud of you, if he could see you now."

_How dare he… _Clarke couldn't respond, not that she knew what to say anyway. Clarke would be absolutely mortified if her father knew what had happened to her, and he would most certainly not be _proud _of the person she had become since college, what with her constant reliance on Bellamy Blake and her difficulty sleeping and her irrational fear of her roommate's boyfriend appearing at any moment. No, he would be sad if anything, maybe even disgusted.

"Clarke, I didn't mean it like-"

"Doesn't matter how you meant it," she said tersely, realizing now that she had stopped walking and jogged a few paces to catch up to the group, Bellamy keeping pace at her side. "This is the only time I've ever been glad that he died, so he never has to find out about any of this."

Clarke couldn't put the thoughts of her father out of her head for the entire meal. She'd sat at the end of the table beside Raven purposely so Bellamy couldn't sit beside her. He deserved time to just be a college guy and joke around with his guy friends and do guy things. Clarke was certain his constant concern over her was preventing him from doing that, and she was determined not to further burden Bellamy's life.

She shared a plate of fries with Raven, tried several different flavors of barbecue sauce, and watched in amusement as Jasper tried to eat a chicken wing slathered in Blazin' sauce, the hottest on the menu, after a dare from Murphy. Clarke figured Murphy just enjoyed seeing others in pain, judging by the look on his face as Jasper begged for mercy while tears streamed down his flushed cheeks.

He found salvation in a glass of ice the waiter brought out, and tried to sooth his scalded tongue for the remainder of the meal, letting the rest of his appropriately seasoned wings be eaten by others with a dejected look on his face as he nursed an ice cube. Monty gave him an earful after laughing at his friend's expense.

Despite Clarke's relative absence from the conversation, the several hours they spent at the restaurant felt more like minutes. She was still feeling a bit upset and conflicted and wanted to keep to herself for now, trying to get herself in order. She really did want to enjoy the game.

It wasn't as if anyone missed her in the conversation; this was a rowdy group, and they received more than a few sideways glances from fellow diners, but Clarke didn't really feel guilty. Who came to Buffalo Wild Wings for an upscale experience? They should have known better than to dine here, especially when the college that was just a few blocks away had a football game today.

Apart from Jasper's unfortunate lost dare, Raven and Murphy got into another heated debate about the scoville scale, Miller whooped loudly at the Clemson Tigers game on the TV, and Octavia complained more than three times to the waiter about her meal.

Time flew by, and before Clarke knew it, Bellamy was herding them towards the door like a chaperon on an elementary school field trip. Jasper grabbed an entire handful of mints from the container on the counter and raced out of the restaurant like a bandit, but no one knew what he had done, so they all ended up running after him, which attracted several more glares.

Despite what the other patrons might have thought, they were not dining and dashing. They had all paid for their meals, after Octavia complained that she didn't know boneless wings were more expensive than traditional ones, and got three dollars knocked off her tab.

On the walk to the stadium, Raven told her about a Minnesota Vikings game she had gone to with Finn a few years ago when he had won tickets at the church raffle. Clarke managed to keep her cool and even respond when appropriate during the entire conversation, which was a definite win in her book, and helped bolster her mood, which was nearly restored by the time they pushed through the heavy metal doors.

Bellamy distributed the tickets he had been carrying, and they made their way through the turnstiles and metal detector, only after Murphy had been pulled aside by a security officer when he said, loudly, "Did you remember to take the pipe bomb out of my back pocket this morning, Miller?" He had received a rather rough pat-down and a stern scolding before he slunk back to the group and got another round of scolding at and an open handed whack on the back of the head from Miller.

"Worth it," Murphy said, rubbing his scalp.

"Where are we going?" Jasper asked. They had grouped loosely along the wall as they waited for Murphy while people thronged around them, all decked out in their maroon and gold, and to Octavia's dismay, several more college guys dressed in _game bibs_.

Octavia's guess of an hour later than Bellamy's plan was pretty accurate, it was nearly 5 pm by now, and all of the pregame activities on the field were going to start soon.

"Uh, the student section is in the East end zone. We're row 22," Bellamy said, reading off his ticket stub. Clarke glanced down at hers, seeing 22D printed on it.

"This way," Miller said, taking the lead. He'd clearly been here before, and easily led them through the facility. Clarke people watched; her dad used to say there were two places where you could see people from all walks of life: Walmart and the subway. Clarke added professional sporting events to that list, wishing her dad was there in person so she could tell that to him. She imagined the way he'd laugh and nod, then say something sort of cliche like, '_Lets just be glad we ended up in the normal lot. The semi normal lot, that is.' _

Bellamy dragged Monty and Jasper away from a food stand, muttering about how they could possibly be hungry, and he wasn't going to have them get lost five minutes in. Clarke thought _he_ looked like a dad, not her dad, but just a dad whose kids were starting to get on his nerves. He held each boy by the shoulder as they whined and dragged their feet while Jasper cried out that he _needed _an ice cream cone because his tongue was still throbbing.

"Capsaicin will do that to you," Clarke said, coming up beside Jasper. "I'll walk back with you once we find our seats."

"Okay! Did you see the twist cone? It's like a _tornado _of swirled vanilla and chocolate!" Jasper said, wrenching his arm away from Bellamy. Clarke chuckled as he darted off to inspect a row of framed jerseys hung on the concrete wall.

"I don't know whether they're 18 or 8," Bellamy muttered.

"They're just having fun. Maybe you're just showing your age, old man," Clarke teased.

"I'm barely five years older than the rest of you," Bellamy protested.

"Five years is five years," Clarke said, smirking at him.

"Shut up," he said and Clarke cooed,

"Oh, did I touch a nerve there? Poor Alexander, he's too old for all this _tomfoolery." _

"I've never heard anyone under 80 say that word."

"What can I say, I'm an old soul."

Bellamy nodded his head, "I can see that."

"Yeah, must be why I can stand to be friends with an old man like you," Clarke laughed.

"Oh, so we're friends again? I was starting to think you were shunning me," Bellamy said, and although his tone was light, Clarke heard the undercurrent of seriousness.

"I was just… having a moment," Clarke said calmly.

"That's okay. I'm still here."

"That's the thing, Bellamy. I-" Clarke fumbled over the words. She doubted that any of their friends could hear them over the din. The concrete walls and floor did little to absorb sound, but this wasn't really the time or the place to have this conversation.

"You what? Don't want me around? Just say so if you don't," Bellamy said and Clarke turned to him, surprised at his expression of genuine hurt.

"No," She said quickly, trying to soothe him. He wasn't supposed to look like that… he was the strong one. "That's not it at all. In fact, it's the opposite."

"You want me around more?" His look slid from upset to cautiously curious.

"No, I want you around just the right amount. The right amount for you, not me. I don't want to be so dependent on you," Clarke explained, finding this conversation a lot easier than she had originally anticipated. "I feel like I'm, I don't know, holding you back from doing what you actually want to do."

"Trust me Clarke, if I was tired of you, I'd let you know."

"Really? You promise to tell me to back off?"

"Yes, I will not hold back, nor will I spare your feelings when I tell you just how annoying I find you, and how I can hardly be in the same room as you, and whenever I'm around you, my skin starts to crawl with disgust."

Clarke giggled and bit the tip of her tongue between her teeth. "Well, okay then."

Someone up ahead exclaimed, "Wow!"

They followed Harper down a few concrete steps, then the field was in full view. The sun shone down brightly on the impossibly green field, branded in vivid color with the University's logo in the center. The end zone was a vibrant maroon, bearing the word MINNESOTA is all capitals like a banner. The stadium was so much larger than Clarke had ever imagined it would be. She remembered reading that TFC Back Stadium could seat over 50,000, but it seemed impossibly huge.

"Trust me, Clarke. There is nowhere else I'd rather be right now," Bellamy said, and Clarke turned to him. Only, his eyes weren't darting around the stadium in amazement as hers were, but fixed firmly on her face.

**AN_**

**Aww, football and The 100! An unlikely duo? I think not. I love football (American football, that is) and grew up on the high school football field with my dad, who was the head coach, and my brothers. An intersection of two of my greatest loves was inevitable in my eyes. :) My oldest brother was a fly back, and his build reminds me a lot of a lot like Bob Morely, haha. Anyways, a bit of personal backstory and a promise of more football in the next chapter, so hope to see you there!**

**Thanks for reading,**

**-Birch66724**


	25. Chapter 25

Bellamy was feeling like the king of the hill and he relaxed back into his stadium seat. He hadn't been telling a lie to Clarke when he said there was no place else he'd rather be. And although he really did like football, it would be a lie to say her company wasn't a contributing factor to his mood.

He had been worrying about her since last night, after she'd gone cold on him as soon as he mentioned seeing a counselor. He'd been kicking himself for that since the second it left his mouth. He didn't know what to do when she tensed up, as he couldn't retract the statement. It was true that he wished she'd talk to someone about how she was feeling, not because he didn't want to be her go-to person, but because he thought it might help her cope. Now, he changed his mind, seeing how adamantly opposed she'd been, and how he thought it had cost him her friendship. If she didn't turn to him, where would she go? That thought scared him.

"Okay, can we go now, Clarke?" Jasper was practically laying on Harper so he could peer up at Clarke.

"Don't you want to wait til the game starts?" she questioned.

"No! My tongue burns _now." _

"Well, alright." Clarke stood up as Jasper scrambled over Harper. Bellamy stood up to let them out, as he was sitting on the end of the row. Clarke, Jasper and Monty filed out and Bellamy watched them over his shoulder. Jasper had his hands on Clarke's shoulders, pushing her to go faster as they jogged up the stairs, and he could hear her laughing at him over the dull roar of the crowd.

Bellamy knew she would be fine, that nothing was going to happen to her. She had Jasper and Monty right by her side… but his feet were carrying him after them, taking the stairs two at a time so that Clarke's blond head didn't disappear into the crowd. He was really digging the braids on her, even if she didn't love them.

"Are you sure you want just plain vanilla?" Jasper was asking Monty as Bellamy caught up with them.

"Yes, I don't like the way- Oh! Hey, Bellamy," Monty said, and Clarke turned around at the mention of his name. He watched as a small smile crept onto her face, wrinkling the painted _M_s on her cheeks. All the girls looked goofy with their painted faces and braids, but Clarke made it look downright adorable.

"Wanted some ice cream?" she asked.

"Sure," Bellamy replied. Clarke paused to let him catch up to her as Jasper and Monty hurried ahead, their eyes fixed on their cold, sugary treats.

It was cool in the wide concrete hall that held the vendors, and Bellamy realized his bare chest was chilled as he saw Monty wearing his t-shirt. The sleeves hung practically down to his elbows on his skinny arms and the body of the shirt was like an ill fitting hospital gown. Bellamy thought the shirt was only a size large, but maybe it had been stretched out with wear over the past few years.

"Are you getting one, Clarke? Look here it says buy 2 get 1 free. What a bargain!" Jasper said.

Clarke looked up at him and asked, "Want to split one? I really only want the cone."

"Sure." Bellamy wasn't going to turn down that offer. Clarke insisted that she pay for it, and before Bellamy could disagree, she pressed the money into Jasper's hand and flashed a triumphant smile at Bellamy.

"Not fair," he mumbled.

"It's entirely fair," Clarke said stubbornly, pulling napkins from a dispenser on the counter, probably anticipating a spill and sticky hands from the boys.

Bellamy made a disgruntled sound.

"Want anything else? I think you can get a can of Bud for like, seven bucks."

"No thanks. I'd rather not waste my hard earned cash on over priced, piss warm beer."

Clarke snorted. "Strong opinion on that one."

"Yeah. I'm not much of a drinker anyways, I told you that."

"Woah, take this, take this!" Jasper said, his voice rising in panic as he hurried over to Clarke with two very large ice cream cones tettering in his hands.

"I got it, easy, Jasper," Clarke said through a smile, easing the treat from his hand.

"Okay. There. Thanks. After this, can we go to Goldy's Locker Room?"

"Yeah, no offense Bellamy, but I want to get a shirt that fits a bit better," Monty added, flapping his free arm in the excess material.

"None taken."

"Sure," Clarke said. "Let's go sit down and eat these first though."

"Okay," Jasper started to lead the way back.

Bellamy watched Clarke take a large lick of the swirled ice cream.

"Hey, I thought you said I got the ice cream part," Bellamy whined.

Clarke flashed him a look. "I was just making sure it was good."

"And was it?"

"Yes." Clarke took another lick before holding the cone out to Bellamy. He leaned down and took a bite off the top.

Clarke gasped, and he looked at her, immediately concerned.

"What kind of animal _bites _into ice cream?" Clarke made a mortified face, holding her other hand to her chest as if she were feeling faint.

Bellamy chuckled and licked his lips where he could feel some of the ice cream was lingering. "It's more effective. Did you know it takes 50 licks to eat the average scoop of ice cream?"

"Why on earth do you know that?"

"I dunno. I guess I'm just all about efficiency."

"But it's soft serve. You can't even chew it if you tried."

"Oh, I can chew it," Bellamy said as if that was something to be proud of, and Clarke looked as if she were trying not to smile.

"Whatever, weirdo."

"Says the one who only wanted the cone!"

"That's 'cause the cone is the best part! The bottom part when it gets all soft, but the outside is still crunchy? Mmm," Clarke explained.

"Ew. It's soggy."

Clarke shot him a glare and took another lick of the ice cream.

"Jasper! You walked past the gate!"

"I did?"

"Yeah. C'mon."

Jasper ambled back and Clarke handed him a napkin, because the chocolate side of his cone was already melting and dripping down over his fingers.

"Thanks, Mom," he said and trotted down the stairs after Monty.

Clarke rolled her eyes and followed him after handing the cone off to Bellamy. She paused at the end of the row and waved him inside.

"You want to sit on the end?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Go sit by the guys."

"Why?"

Clarke narrowed her eyes. "Because…? They're your friends?"

"You're my friend, too," he said. "Besides, how are we supposed to share this if I'm sitting down there?"

Clarke screwed her lips to the side as if her plan had been thwarted, then sat down in her previous seat beside Harper, leaving the outside chair open for Bellamy, and he happily sank back down into it.

He ate most of the ice cream while Clarke talked to Harper about Zack Annexstand, the brand new starting Quarterback. Bellamy wasn't going to kid himself, it was completely hot to hear her talking about football, and she actually sounded like she knew what she was talking about.

"I think he threw like, 960 yards his senior year in high school," Clarke said.

"940," Bellamy corrected, handing the cone back to her.

She scowled at him and took the ice cream. "940, whatever. I was close enough."

"Close only counts in horseshoes and handgrenades," Bellamy chided.

"Yeah, yeah," Clarke muttered, taking a bite out of the rim of the cone.

"My uncle used to say that!" Harper cried.

"The crazy one?" Clarke asked.

"Uh huh, that's the one. Good old Uncle Terry," Harper nodded. Bellamy had no idea who Uncle Terry was, but Clarke seemed to.

"When's the Gopher Spirit Rally starting?" he asked, turning back to Bellamy.

"Five, I think." he said, and as if on cue, the cheer squad and the marching band started to emerge from the tunnel. The entire student section got to their feet and cheered loudly, clapping and whooping.

While Bellamy typically preferred rap songs or even old school rock, there was just something about a live marching band that got the blood pumping. The thrumming of the drums and the brassy sounds and the deep tuba notes that echoed around the stadium gave life to everyone as they felt the beating of the drums in their chests.

Bellamy watched Clarke enjoying it as much as he was and hoped her first football game was everything she had dreamed it to be, even if her dad wasn't here with her. It had been heartbreaking when she told him on their walk to Buffalo Wild Wings that she was missing her father. He couldn't even imagine how she felt, having never had a real father figure in his life, but it must be devastating, to grow up with someone, make plans for the future, and then have them leave you as suddenly as he did. Clarke never even got to say goodbye to him… It made Bellamy's heart ache to think about it.

But now wasn't the time to think about that. Clarke leaned over and showed him the base of the cone, all soggy and weird looking. It was too loud to say much of anything to her, so he just made a face and she shook her head, popping the round bit of cone into her mouth. Clarke's eyes closed and her head tipped back as if in pure bliss, like it was the best thing she'd ever eaten.

She swallowed it and leaned up to Bellamy. Her lips brushed against his ear and he had to pretend he didn't feel the shiver that rose up his spine.

"Dee-licious!" She yelled, but over the roar of the surrounding crowd and the music, he barely heard it. He pulled back and shook his head at her, the grin that was ever-present around her on his lips. She just smiled sweetly and shrugged.

The band played a few more songs, then took a break while the cheerleaders did their routine and Goldy the Gopher ran around launching t-shirts into the student section. The other guys tried desperately to attract the attention of the man in the mascot costume, but they were unsuccessful, despite hoisting Monty into the air where he wildly flailed his arms.

Afterwards, the band returned and then the student section got really fired up. It was time to sing Minnasota Rouser, which was the University's fight song, and was played before every home game. It was a tradition that they were all getting to take part in for the first time, and Bellamy's heart raced like a little kid on Christmas morning; it was all just so exciting.

Clarke put one hand on his shoulder as she and Harper jumped up onto their seats, singing loudly and pumping their fists in the air.

Minnesota, hats off to thee!

To thy colors true we shall ever be,

Firm and strong, united are we.

Rah, rah, rah, for Ski-U-Mah,

Rah! Rah! Rah! Rah!

Rah for the U of M.

Bellamy joined in and the band played louder than they had before. The energy in the stadium was so high as the sun was starting to set over the Western end zone. Bellamy was immensely glad to be here, in this moment. He knew he had worked his ass to get both he and Octavia into school here, and this was a reward for all the hard work. What more could he want, really? All of his new friends, Octavia, Clarke, football? He was satisfied.

As the fight song ended, Clarke tripped on the edge of her stadium chair, and Bellamy was quick to steady her. She giggled into Bellamy's shoulder and as he righted her, back on her feet on the ground while Harper bellowed with laughter.

"Thanks!" She yelled before giving Harper a slug in the shoulder. Apparently it wasn't only him that Clarke liked to punch for laughing at her expense. Harper didn't seem to even notice the blow as she reenacted Clarke's stumbling step, falling into a very surprised Monty.

When the players came running out of the tunnel onto the field, the stadium again surged with energy as people waved their homemade banners and pumped their fists in the air, yelling at the tops of their lungs and jumping on one another, all in the name of school spirit.

Then, when the opposing team, the New Mexico State Aggies, came running out, they booed even louder than they had cheered. The stadium was almost exclusively Minnesota fans, as New Mexico was just so far away, and the sound of discouragement was so loud, Bellamy almost felt bad for the guys. Almost.

All of the students were up on their seats, stomping their feet leading up to the kickoff, but once the ball was in the air, it was dead silence for one...two...three seconds. Bellamy swore he heard Clarke's heart beating next to him. Electricity buzzed in the still air before it the kick was caught and the sound rushed back into the stadium, as if the vacuum that sucked it out had been reversed.

They booed and cheered their way through the first quarter. Bellamy found out another interesting fact about Clarke; when the game was tense, like when a pass was thrown or they were waiting on a call to be made by an official, she would grab onto someone. More often than not, it was Bellamy, either his wrist, or his knee if they were sitting, or if they were standing, she grabbed his whole arm and she craned her neck and stood up on her toes to see better while muttering under her breath.

Bellamy pretended like it bothered him, and would grumble everytime she did it, but honestly, she barely noticed. She was so into the game, maybe even more than Bellamy was. He had no qualms about her hanging off his arm or clutching his hand, especially when the call was in the Gopher's favor, or the pass was caught, because she would exclaim, _Yes! _and jump up and down while hugging his appendage closer.

At the end of the first quarter, they were tied at 7 after a strong back and forth battle on the field.

"Are you having fun?" Bellamy asked Clarke in the slight pause between quarters.

She turned her bright eyes on him and nodded embulliantly. Her cheeks were flushed despite the slight chill in the air, and it only made her blue eyes stand out more from her face.

"I'm glad," Bellamy said.

"Me too. How 'bout you? I mean, of course you're having a great time, it's football."

Bellamy chuckled. "Yeah, I do love football."

"Want to go sit by your guys?" Clarke asked.

"No. Who's arm would you grab then?" He teased, but he was wondering why she kept pressing that issue.

"Sorry," she said softly.

"Don't worry about it. You're keeping me warm, it's getting kinda cold."

Clarke smirked and scooped up her jacket from her seat, holding it out to Bellamy like a little kid presenting a crayon drawing.

"You think I would fit in that?" Bellamy frowned, pinching the tag between his thumb and pointer finger. "It's a women's medium."

Clarke shrugged and tossed it over his shoulder. Bellamy settled her jacket over him, not putting his arms in the sleeves because he didn't want to tear the water resistant material, because it didn't really stretch. It smelled like her sweet, shampoo scent.

"Much better," Clarke chirped. "Oh look, they're getting ready to kick off!"

The Aggies scored 50 seconds into the second quarter with a 45-yard field goal.

"Field goal! Field goal! Block it!" She screamed as if the players could hear her. The kick went unblocked and soared through the goalposts.

Clarke groaned immoderately and sagged into Bellamy's arm, which of course she had been clutching in anticipation of the other team scoring.

Bellamy liked this side of Clarke, this overly competitive nature, and it was his first time seeing it. He briefly wondered if she would be this competitive at other things, like card games or pick-up sports games. It could be fun to play something with her, because she was sure to be a fierce opponent and there would be no risk of the game being dull.

The Aggies didn't score again for the rest of the quarter, but the Gophers did, four times. And, three of their touchdowns had been in the last four minutes of the quarter. The third of which was a glories 76-yard punt return which had every Minnesota fan in the place whooping as Winfield zigzagged his way through the Aggies coverage unit and dodge six tackles. Six!

It was probably the best punt return that Bellamy had ever seen and it almost made him ache with envy. Clarke clearly shared that opinion, as she cheered so loud Bellamy wondered how hoarse her voice would be later. She jumped up and down, her braids bouncing on her shoulders and she hugged Harper, squealing as only a teenage girl could do.

Harper really didn't seem to have any idea what was going on, but she followed the energy of the crowd and Clarke was always leaning over and explaining things to her. Harper just nodded along and let Clarke enjoy the moment as most of the things she was being told went right over her head.

At halftime, the Gopher's were up 35-10, and as promised, Clarke went with Jasper and Monty to Goldie's Locker Room, which was, to Bellamy, just an overpriced merchandise trap.

He trailed after them though, even as Clarke and Raven started talking excitedly about the game while Octavia and Harper rolled their eyes at them.

"How's life, big brother?" Octavia asked, bouncing to his side. Bellamy smiled down at his sister.

"Pretty good, O'. Pretty good," He glanced up as Clarke tossed her head back in laughter at something Raven had said. This was definitely the happiest he'd seen her since they met on that fateful night.

"Yeah, this is fun, even though it is football," Octavia said.

"What? The football is the best part!"

Octavia peered up at him and cocked a brow. She'd gotten awfully good at that and it made her look much older than her eighteen years. "You sure about that?"

"Yeah, of course," Bellamy then realized what she was getting at so he tacked on. "You know I've always loved football."

"I know, but it's so much better in the company of _friends, _don't you think?"

"Yeah, I do," Bellamy said evenly. Octavia giggled, which was a sound he hadn't heard from her in a long time.

"Okay. Oh! Look at that hat!" She hurried off, spying something she liked through the window of the store. It was packed with people, and their group had paused at the entrance.

He met Clarke's eyes and she came to his side.

"You okay?" He asked, because suddenly, Clarke didn't look as bubbly as she had a few minutes ago.

"Yeah, fine. Just-pretty packed in there," She commented, looking at the store and she slid her hands into the back pockets of her cut offs, her elbows jutting out like a personal space bubble.

"It is. Don't go in there, then, Princess."

"Nah, it's alright. Someone has to supervise those two," She nodded at Monty and Jasper, who were chasing after a quarter rolling on the ground. Jasper darted in front of a group of people and nearly knocked a lady flat on her ass. He shouted an apology over his shoulder as he continued his chase.

"Well, okay. Just be careful."

"Of course," She said, watching the two boys.

"I think I'm going to get something to eat. Want anything?"

"Actually, could you get me something to drink? My throat is kinda dry."

"I wonder why," Bellamy teased and Clarke stuck her tongue out at him as she fished her money out of her pocket. "Catch you in a bit!" Bellamy said, hurrying away before she could give him any money.

"Bellamy!" He heard her call after him, but he kept walking, slipping in with the flow of fans walking the opposite direction.

As he walked along alone, browsing the selection of food venders lining the walls, he found himself missing Clarke at his side, which was ridiculous, because he'd left her not even five minutes ago. He caught himself gesturing at a fan dressed in a full replica of the Goldie the Gopher costume, about to point it out to her, when he stopped himself, looking at the empty space beside him.

It made him feel a little bit apprehensive, to say the least. Why had he gotten so used to her presence? He'd spent what? Maybe four nights with her and was already so accustomed to the feeling of her at his side.

He didn't even know her favorite color, her middle name, her favorite song, or what she even wanted to drink. When they'd gone out last night, she'd only gotten water, and at Buffalo Wild Wings, she'd sat at the opposite end of the table from him, so he hadn't even noticed what she'd been drinking.

"Hey, excuse me man." Bellamy was jolted from his thoughts as he was bumped into from behind.

"Sorry," Bellamy mumbled. What was happening to him? He gave his head a shake like a dog and refocused on the task at hand: finding something to eat.

He wound up at a place called Mayslacks. He ordered a ridiculously overpriced beef and cheddar sandwich with a side of seasoned waffle fries and a large Coke. Everything at sporting events was so expensive.

As he waited for them to call the number on his receipt, Bellamy wondered if Clarke would have rather had Diet Coke. Maybe he should have just gotten a water…

"Order 82!"

"Thanks," He said, retrieving the paper sack from a pretty brunette girl behind the counter. She smiled flirtatiously at him, purposely touching his hand when she handed over the cup. Bellamy gave her a tight lipped smile and retreated, making his way back to the East end zone. He'd wandered nearly to the opposite side of the stadium.

He glimpsed the clock on the jumbotron over the field, seeing he had four minutes until the start of the third quarter. Walking quickly, he slid into his seat with 39 seconds to spare.

"Thanks, Bellamy!"

His shirt landed back in his lap, thrown from farther down the row.

"Sure thing," he called back to Monty. Clarke was absorbed in looking at something on Harper's phone.

"Oh, so cute. Did you tell them what row we're in? Maybe they'll be able to spot us on TV when they kick a field goal," Clarke said.

Bellamy glanced over to see several kids dressed in their Gopher gear, crowded on a couch and begrudgingly smiling on Harper's phone as he set his meal on the ground so he could slip his shirt back on. He had been rocking it with the bare chested look, but he was cold now.

"Look at Harper's little brothers!" Clarke cooed, showing the phone to Bellamy.

He smiled at the screen. "Are those two twins?"

"Yes, Ian and Luke." Harper said, taking the phone back. "I miss them, even if they are a huge pain in the ass."

"Double trouble," Bellamy said, slipping the shirt over his head.

"What d'ya get?" Clarke asked as Bellamy refastened the strap of his overalls.

"Uh, some kind of beef and cheese sandwich, with waffle fries, and a Coke. I didn't know if you wanted diet or not-"

"No, whatever is fine!" Clarke said quickly. "My throat feels like sandpaper."

"Here you go, Princess," Bellamy handed her the cup and she readily took a long gulp.

"Thank you so much, Paris," She said after a long exhale. Bellamy grinned at the nickname she'd given him. She hadn't used it all day, and he'd be lying to himself if he said he wasn't waiting for it to leave her lips.

"Of course."

"Now, before you refuse." Clarke tucked a few folded bills into his pocket while he leaned over to pick his paper bag up from the floor.

"Clarke-"

"No! I'm going to get mad at you if you refuse my money! It's not right for you to pay for my stuff, I worked hard to make my own money," She said firmly, but it was still hard to take her seriously with her polka dotted face and twin braids.

Bellamy groaned, but left the money in his pocket. He really didn't want Clarke to get mad at him, but what she said sparked a question.

"Where did you work?"

"I had a couple of jobs in highschool," she shrugged. "We can talk about boring stuff another time, they're about to kick off!"

Bellamy scarfed down his sandwich, which was pretty good, and offered his fries to Clarke, but she didn't really like the seasoning. Bellamy ate half before sending them down the row where they were devoured by various people.

Clarke didn't seem to mind at all sharing the pop with Bellamy. After all, they'd already shared an ice cream cone, so what was a straw?

The rest of the game was exciting, as the Aggies didn't score a single point in the second half, but the Gopher's scored one touchdown in the 3rd quarter, then drove down the field all of the 4th for two hard earned scores, ending the game 48-10. Clarke didn't let Bellamy sit for very long. She was back on her feet and cheering, participating in all of the chants that circulated around the student section.

As the game ended, they took up singing the fight song again as people pressed to rush the field, but were corralled back. Bellamy watched as they showed on the jumbotron, a guy getting apprehended after he dropped from the stands. It was a solid 15 feet from the wall to the field.

"Oo, that looked like it hurt," Clarke cringed as the guy was pushed to the ground by a security officer.

"Sure doesn't look like it felt very good," Bellamy agreed.

"You know," Clarke started, a wistful look coming over her face. "The first time my Dad was arrested, he was a drunk college student and he jumped the fence at a Seattle Mariners game. He went to lockup overnight for that one."

"Oh, wow," Bellamy half chuckled. "I guess they're more strict at an actual MLB game."

"Yeah. He used to tell me about it, that he never regretted it."

"Why not?"

Clarke grinned slyly, retelling her father's tale. "Because he got to be on national television." Bellamy rolled his eyes.

"What people won't do for their minute in the spotlight."

"He was crazy back in the day. He'd tell me all his stories, then immediately tell me not to do any of the things he told me about."

"Sounds like a dad thing," Bellamy said, and Clarke looked up at him, her face faltering. "No, Clarke. Don't feel bad. I never had a dad so I don't know what I'm missing. No hard feelings."

"Mmm," she pursed her lips.

"Move it down there, Blake!" Murphy called from the far end of the row.

"Yeah, I'mma piss myself if I don't make it to the bathroom in the next two minutes." Jasper added. His legs were crossed and he swayed back and forth.

"After you," Bellamy waved Clarke out in front of him and she led the way up the stairs which were flooded with people on their way out.

After a pitstop at the overcrowded bathrooms, the crew escaped the stadium into the cool black night.

"Ah, college, how I love thee!" Octavia exclaimed, throwing her arms out wide and spinning in a circle on the sidewalk. Bellamy was happy to see her like that. It hadn't been easy to convince her to keep her grades up over the years, but hopefully now she could appreciate that it was all worth it.

"It'd be even better if we had some brews," Murphy muttered and spit into the gutter. Clarke turned her lip up at him and Bellamy turned his head so no one would see him smirk.

"Just you wait til you see what we've got," Jasper bragged.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Finally got the shower connection on the home distillery working," Monty said bashfully.

"Well what are we waiting for? Let's go have a party."

**AN_**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Birch55724**


	26. Chapter 26

"This tastes like cat piss," Miller choked out the words between coughs as he looked disgusted.

"Don't criticize the recipe!" Jasper snapped, leaning over the carboy in the shower. Clarke watched, uncertain, from Bellamy's bathroom door.

"Jasper, when did you even get that thing in there?" Bellamy groaned.

Jasper shrugged. "Last night. You were out, so…"

"Why didn't you wait for me? We both know you don't bother to measure anything." Monty said, pushing passed Miller in the doorway and crouching beside his friend.

"It's _fine. _Besides, it's not what it tastes like, but what it _does _to you." He smirked as Monty frowned at the brew.

"Shit, I'll try it," Octavia said, reaching for the plastic cup Jasper was filling.

"No, Octavia," Bellamy said and his sister glared at him before taking the cup deliberately slowly.

"Relax, bud," Jasper said. "'It's completely safe, I promise."

"Sure it is," Bellamy muttered sarcastically. "But that doesn't change the fact that she's eighteen."

"Me too. But _that _doesn't change the fact I'm about to get _slammed." _

Clarke glanced from Bellamy, who was muttering curses under his breath, to the rest of the group. They were all crowded in and around the boys' bathroom, where Jasper had some ridiculous brewing contraption half suspended from the faucet and shower head. There were lengths of black rubber tubing and two large glass carboys, one partially filled with a frothy, amber liquid, along with an assortment of plastic containers, bottles and a long, wooden spoon.

"Oh, what the hell," Raven said, accepting the glass that Jasper was offering her.

"J and M's famous moonshine," Monty said fondly, rocking back on his heels as Jasper poured.

"I know! We haven't made a batch in, like, a month! Ever since we left home and we couldn't figure out this damn propane tank and the burner took a crap, but whatever." Jasper slapped the side of the Blue Rhino tank and it echoed metallically.

"Clarke?" Jasper raised a brow and held out a filled cup to her. Clarke hesitated, not sure whether or not to accept it. She hadn't drank since the night of the frat party… and the memory was still fresh, _very fresh, _in her mind, and now Bellamy was standing beside her, practically radiating his displeasure.

"C'mon!" Octavia encouraged. "Don't let Bell ruin all your fun."

Clarke glanced up at him and saw his face had softened slightly from the hard expression he'd had a few moments before.

"Okay," Clarke said quietly and Jasper beamed. She had no intention of getting drunk, per say, but sometimes things were a little more fun if you were slightly buzzed.

"Now you, big guy," Jasper said, thrusting the last cup at Bellamy who was currently standing with his arms tightly crossed over his chest.

"You know you want to," Jasper taunted, swirling the beer right under Bellamy's nose until he cracked a smile and Jasper cheered triumphantly.

"Give it here, you idiot," he said gruffly.

"Atta boy! Let me tell you, I've been making this stuff since the eighth grade, and each year it keeps getting better and better," Jasper said proudly to no one in particular before slamming back a cup and refilling it.

"Better how, exactly?" Murphy asked with a sour expression. "Because I think the flavor could use a little improvement."

"Shut up and be grateful for what God has given you," Jasper said, waving Murphy away.

Monty filled in. "We still haven't got the exact flavor profile worked out yet, but let's be honest, it's more about the alcohol anyways. This right here is some of the strongest yet."

"How strong?" Bellamy asked skeptically.

"Uh, I don't know, maybe 140 proof?"

Bellamy sputtered. "What? That's 70% alcohol!"

"Sorta the point man," Jasper grinned devilishly from where he was leaning against the sink.

"Is this going to make us go blind?" Raven peered into her glass. She had yet to take a sip.

"I dunno. I still see fine."

"For now," Bellamy grumbled, shifting from foot to foot.

"What's so bad about it?" Octavia asked.

Bellamy stared at his sister for a moment before rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Remember that one time you took, well, you _tried _to take a shot of Bacardi 151? This is basically that, but a bootlegger version."

"Hmm," Octavia mused.

"Don't you dare!" Bellamy said too late, because Octavia knocked the glass back.

"Oh God!" She physically staggered back as her lips pulled back from her teeth. "That is _strong." _Jasper laughed as Octavia shook her head from side to side, grinning. Clarke bit back a grin at the expression on Bellamy's face.

"You're a fool," he muttered, placing his glass down. Monty picked it up and took a swig. Clarke was sort of impressed that he didn't even flinch. Monty seemed more like the nerdy, geek type than a big drinker, but he seemed to have no problem with the strong taste of it.

"One time, Finn took two shots of Everclear, and he didn't wake up for seventeen hours."

"Fuckin' idiot," Bellamy mumbled, loud enough that only Clarke could hear, as everyone else busted out laughing.

"I based this recipe on Everclear, you know! I dunno how they get so much ethanol though," Jasper said thoughtfully. The effects of his homemade grain alcohol were clearly already taking effect on him as he slumped against the sink.

"Everclear will _destroy _you," Murphy said knowingly.

"It's not meant to be taken straight," Raven said.

"It is if you want to get _messed up," _Jasper said, laughing and Murphy clapped him on the back.

"Hey you got the TV don't you, Bellamy?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Good, let's get out of this bathroom."

"It is kinda weird."

"Whatever," Bellamy said, backing up and everyone followed into his side of the dorm.

"Oh, don't be pouty, Bell!" Octavia shouted. "I feel fine!"

"You won't tomorrow."

Octavia only shrugged and flopped onto the spare bed.

"Scoot over," Harper told her and Octavia exaggeratedly flopped to her side. Harper and Monty sat next to her as Bellamy fiddled with his TV. Clarke hadn't noticed it before; he must have gotten it sometime this week.

The other boy sat down on the floor, still holding their plastic cups, seeming to mind the taste less and less the more they had. Raven set her cup on the desk and sat in Bellamy's desk chair. Clarke still stood, holding her untouched cup and surveying the room.

"What d'ya wanna watch?" Bellamy asked, tossing the remote to Murphy.

"Something scary!" Octavia cried. Her head was hanging off the mattress, upside down. Clarke was already anticipating the aftermath of her impulse shot.

"No, most horror movies are so stupid they end up being funny."

"That's why they're good!" she argued.

"Hmpfh."

Clarke didn't care what they watched, figuring her friends in their drunken state would be enough entertainment. Bellamy sat down on his bed and caught Clarke's eye, nodding for her to come sit beside him. She hesitated a moment before stepping over Miller's splayed legs and gingerly sitting on the edge of his bed. She remembered the last time she was here and how different things had felt then.

"I swear to God if we have to watch any more football today!" Octavia bemoaned as Murphy settled the channel on Sports Center.

"What? It's all that's on."

"I beg to differ," Raven said, reaching out to take the remote, but Murphy snatched it back, holding it just out of her reach. Raven glared at him before lunging for the remote, only to stumble over Jasper and wind up on the floor.

Murphy cackled but Raven smacked him in the side of the ribs.

"Oof!" He exhaled and Raven grabbed his wrist, wrestling him for the remote.

"Ah ha!" She triumphantly jumped to her feet.

"Not fair," Murphy groaned, rubbing his side.

"Sorry, I guess being sober just makes me more nimble," Raven said without remorse.

Clarke scooted back on Bellamy's bed to lean against the wall, content to just observe the bickering over the TV. She balanced the cup between her knees, careful not to spill it's contents.

"So I never officially asked you," Belamy started, joining Clarke in her relaxed position.

"Asked me what?"

"How was your very first Gopher's game?"

"It was great. It was a good game, and it's always more fun when you win," She replied and Raven tossed the remote over Murphy's head to Octavia who didn't so much catch it as have it fall into her lap.

"True. I'm glad you had a good time."

"Me too. Did you?"

"Of course."

"Good." Clarke nodded. This conversation was… weirdly dull she thought. "I can't believe you let these two knuckleheads set up a distillery in your shower. Didn't you stop them once before?"

"Yeah. I guess I wasn't here to stop them this time though. And I didn't see it this morning, they had the shower curtain closed. Sneaky bastards. I shoulda known the second they came home with that black curtain that they were about to hide something."

Clarke chuckled.

"_Nightmare On Elm Street? _That's the best you could find?"

"It's free on HBO!"

"That doesn't change the fact that it _sucks."_

"It does not!"

The argument continued, voices getting louder as people got drunker.

"Sorry we all barged in here," Clarke said, feeling like she needed to say something.

"S'no problem. I don't really mind. I'd rather have Octavia somewhere I can keep an eye on her if she's going to act like an egghead."

"Egghead?"

"Yeah. Absolute egghead," Bellamy said. Clarke glanced over at him, his head resting against the wall, and faintly amused smile on his lips and a look in his eye like he was somewhere else, lost in a memory. He looked so calm, at peace, despite the chaotic atmosphere of the room. He was a stable point, a place to anchor, and Clarke realized she'd done just that. She'd anchored herself to Bellamy to keep from drifting away everytime a strong wave surged up around her.

Clarke was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't even notice that Bellamy's head had turned towards her, returning her gaze.

"Whatcha thinkin' about, Princess?" He asked quietly, but his voice was enough to draw Clarke back to the present.

She shook her head slightly, shifting to sit higher up. "Nothing. Just...thinking."

Bellamy turned his head and made a face as if to say, '_I don't believe you.'_

"I guess I was thinking about how, _nice, _it is that Octavia has you, and you have her. It's sweet how much you care. I know she won't say it, but she appreciates you, even if she acts like she doesn't care, she does."

"Thanks, Clarke. It's nice to hear that." Bellamy rolled his head along the wall so he could see the sister in question. She was straddling Jasper, holding up her phone and struggling to take a photo of them. They were both past the tipping point on the drunkenness scale, so while Octavia tried in vain to get Jasper to pose with her, he tried to fight her off, yelling a stream of slurred words about the nerve of some people.

"How do you think they learned to brew liquor?" Clarke asked bellamy.

"Who knows, but if I had to guess, I'd bet they came up with it themselves. They're both smart, although they usually don't look it. Monty knows all kinds of shit about plants and stuff, and Jasper's no idiot."

"Huh."

Jasper rolled free of Octavia and snatched one of Bellamy's shoes off the floor before holding it up like a gun.

"Stop ri'there! You're unner 'rest!" He slurred, pretending to discharge his shoe-gun.

"Well, most of the time, he's no idiot," Bellamy revised.

Clarke hummed her agreement, absently toying with the full cup. Raven got up from the desk chair and squished onto the end of the bed beside Clarke.

"Aren't you just a little curious about what it tastes like?" The dark haired girl asked, a bright gleam in her eye.

"Yeah, a bit," Clarke admitted, scooting down to make room for Raven. Bellamy was sitting in the center of the bed, but he didn't move as Clarke did, staying right where he was.

"I'll do it if you do." Raven raised her glass to Clarke, siddling closer to her. Clarke was pressed between her and Bellamy now, her arms clamped to her sides and she felt the heat of Bellamy's body through both of their clothes.

Uncertainty, Clarke said, "I don't want to do the _whole _shot."

They all looked over at those who _had _taken back a whole glass. Monty looked dazed and Harper pretended to be scared of the movie playing on the TV so she could hold his hand, Jasper was either asleep or pretending to be, so Octavia, who was trying to put one of Bellamy's ball caps on people's heads, would leave him alone. Murphy and Miller were talking, but not to each other. They were just talking.

"Good point. Someone has to look after these fools. But it'll be a bit more fun buzzed." Raven leaned forward, shifting to face Clarke and Bellamy.

"Got a point there." Bellamy surprised Clarke by saying.

"Okay."

Raven grinned. "One...two...three!"

Clarke tipped back the glass, noting how the acrid liquor burned her nostrils before it had even crossed her lips. It felt like liquid heat on her tongue and scalded her throat. She swallowed the small sip, then proceeded to gag as her body rejected the foul substance.

Raven made a face like she'd bitten into a lemon, sticking her tongue out and glaring into the cup like it had offended her.

"Good God, that's terrible," Clarke choked out, scraping her tongue across her front teeth in an attempt to stave off the tingling sensation.

Clarke turned a look on Bellamy, who was snickering at the pair of them.

"Think that's funny, Blake?" Raven challenged, rocking onto her knees.

"Uh, yeah," Bellamy said easily. Clarke already knew where this was heading.

"You do it." She held the glass to him, a competitive gleam in her eye.

"Yeah!" Clarke put in, dumping the remainder of her drink in with Raven's.

Bellamy looked mildly at them, completely unruffled. "Can't. I gotta keep an eye on this." He gestured to the room.

"Don't worry about that, we've got it under control," Raven said.

"Definitely. No way I'm taking any more of that."

Bellamy shifted to sit up straighter. Clearly, he had thought that excuse would save him. Clarke smiled smugly at him and he sighed.

"Gimme that," He grabbed for the cup. "And for the record, this is way more than one shot."

"Oh, you're a big boy, Blake!" Raven said, patting Bellamy's knee.

He huffed, took a deep breath, and knocked back the shot. Raven whooped and Clarke giggled slightly, then laughed as Bellamy Adam's apple jutted out with the force of his swallow. His stomach heaved once, trying to reject the alcohol, but he held firm. After another moment, his tongue darted out around his lips and he let out a loaded sigh.

"Look at this bigshot." Raven rocked back, bumping into the wall as she settled back into place.

"That is literal acid," Bellamy seethed, crushing the cup in his hand.

"Tell me about it," Clarke agreed.

"You? I think you had dram, at most." Bellamy's eyes fluttered.

"I don't even know what that is."

"One eighth of an ounce.'' Bellamy said.

Clarke disagreed. "Oh please! I had more than that!"

"Whatever, Princess," He said with a half smile, his head lolling on the wall.

"Princess?" Raven echoed. Clarke had almost forgotten she was sitting there, even with her shoulder pressed up against Clarke's back.

"Yeah. He calls me that sometimes," Clarke said, slightly embarrassed.

"That's cute," Raven said with her suggestive tone.

Clarke turned a silencing look on her, but she only smiled and said, "Oh, Clarke. I told you you should talk to me about this."

"There is no _this," _Clarke said, turning back to Bellamy because he had reached over and took the end of one of her braids between his fingers.

"Oh?"

"It's like a little paintbrush," Bellamy murmured, twisting the ends over her hair and round and around.

"Yeah," Clarke said, pushing his hand away. Bellamy looked slightly dejected. "That shit works fast."

"Does not!" he immediately protested. "I'm no lightweight. I feel completely, one-hundred percent sober."

"Sure ya do," Raven snorted. Bellamy scoffed but just ended up sitting there with his lips half pushed out. He kinda looked like a goat.

"Well, anyway," Clarke said, patting Bellamy's hand down when he reached for her hair again. It made her stomach flip every time he reached for her, and now her pulse sped up as he captured her hand and started to fiddle with her fingers.

"I guess we're the designated chaperones now," Raven said.

"Fine by me. At least we won't be sick as dogs tomorrow. I barely had any and my head already hurts."

"Yeah. I'll guess right now we'll end up nursemaids in the morning," Raven said. Bellamy had fixated on Clarke's middle fingernail, running his thumb back and forth across the smooth surface.

"Jasper! Get up." Octavia was tugging on the boy's arm. He only moaned as his back left the floor, his head rolling back.

"Fine! I'll get some more myself." Octavia unceremoniously dropped him back to the ground.

"Oh no." Clarke started to get up to intercept Octavia's advance towards the bathroom distillery. If there was one thing Octavia definitely _didn't _need, it was another drink.

"Hey," Bellamy said, gripping her hand as she slid off the bed.

"Let go," She said, tugging her arm away. "I'm trying to save your sister from alcohol poisoning."

"My sister?" Bellamy said, furrowing his brow.

"Octavia?" She prompted.

"Oh. Her."

"Yeah," Clarke laughed. "That's the one."

"She's fine. Come back here."

"Bellamy, no."

He cocked his head, considering for a moment, then released her. "Fine, fine. Whatever you say, Princess."

"Thank you," Clarke said, shaking her head as she backed away from Bellamy. For a second, her mind flashed back in time, to another time when she had asked, no, begged, someone to stop, but they hadn't. And there sat Bellamy, with his innocent intentions, yet he still followed her wishes. Clarke wanted to give him a hug and thank him for being a decent human being, but Raven hollered for her help.

It took both Raven and Clarke to push Octavia back into the dorm, then block the bathroom door with a chair.

"Should we dump it out?" Clarke asked.

Raven frowned, nudging the carboy with her foot and the alcohol sloshed back and forth, leaving lines of foam on the sides of the glass. "I don't know. Jasper might kill us tomorrow."

"Eh, sounds like a tomorrow problem," Clarke declared and together, they lifted the heavy carboy and poured it's contents into the toilet, watching as it swirled away, leaving behind only clear water.

"Good riddance," Clarke said, washing her hands in the sink.

"They'll probably have a new batch by tomorrow night."

"Probably."

Back in Bellamy's dorm, the TV had been switched to The Simpsons which seemed to hold everyone's attention much better than the horror movie. They all sat rapt, watching the TV like elementary school children on the first Friday of the month when they got to watch Bill Nye the Science Guy on the old VHS player.

"Huh," Raven said, flopping back down in the desk chair. "Go on back to your prince, Princess."

Clarke flipped Raven off, but she did return to Bellamy's bed, and his drunken smile made her chest squeeze. He looked unabashedly joyful at her return, instantly reaching towards her. Clarke gave him her hand and he tugged her beside him.

"Where d'ya go? I was lonely."

Clarke chuckled. "Lonely? I was gone for five minutes. Not even."

"Longer than that," he disagreed. "Doesn't matter. You're back."

"I am," Clarke said. Bellamy's face reflected in the blue light from the television, making his freckles stand out. His hair was even crazier than it normally was, if that was possible. The curly dark locks looked like a bird's nest on top of his head and Clarke couldn't resist reaching out and trying to tame it.

Bellamy moaned and leaned into her touch, startling Clarke.

"What are you doing over there, Clarke?" Raven smirked.

"Hush up," Clarke said.

"Wha.. Why'd you stop?" Bellamy gazed up at her with his puppy dog eyes.

"You're too drunk for your own good," Clarke gave his shoulder a little shove and he huffed.

"I am perfectly sober."

"Then why'd you make that noise?"

"What noise?"

Clarke rolled her eyes. "When I touched your hair?"

"Oh!" he said, "It's a secret."

"What? What do you even mean by that?"

"I'll tell you," he said, shuffling over closer to Clarke, his blankets getting all scrunched up beneath him.

"Out with it then," Clarke said when Bellamy stilled.

"Right." He leaned into her ear, seemingly deciding halfway there that his head was just too heavy to hold up, so he dropped his chin onto Clarke's shoulder. His boney chin dug into her collarbone, but she let him lean there.

"I'll tell you, but you can't tell anyone."

"Okay, Bellamy. I promise I won't tell anyone," she said, playing along with him. Raven caught her eye and Clarke looked away as quickly as possible.

"Alright. It's just that-" He paused- "I _really _like it, I mean _really _like having my hair played with." He sat back almost bashfully and Clarke looked incredulously at him.

"What kind of secret is that? I pretty sure most people like-"

"Shh!" He shushed her, glancing around the room to make sure no one was listening.

"I think you're a paranoid drunk," Clarke remarked.

"Am not. Cause not drunk."

"Suuurre you're not," she drawled sarcastically.

He scowled at her like a scolded child before sidling up to her.

"So, do you think you could… maybe…?"

"Maybe what, Bellamy? Play with your hair?" Clarke was more than amused when his hand darted out to press a finger to her lips like she'd just disclosed his most private secret.

"Hush!" he insisted. Raven, who was definitely listening to the whole exchange, was doing a poor job of hiding her laughter.

"Yeah, go on Clarke. Play with his _head." _Clarke glared at Raven and the implied double entendre.

"Fine." She told Bellamy and his face lit up. Clarke folded her legs, expecting Bellamy to sit on the floor in front of his bed, but he just dropped his head into her lap, flopping over on the mattress.

"God, he's like a dog," Raven said.

"He really is," Clarke agreed, looking down at Bellamy's face. His eyes were closed and he wore a patient look.

"Have fun with that."

"Mmm," Clarke hummed, but in truth, she really didn't mind this situation at all. It was pretty fun to see this side of Bellamy; he was pretty goofy when he was drunk.

He cracked one eye open and peered up at Clarke, nodding his head to get her going.

"Okay, okay," She murmured, brushing the hair off his forehead and running her fingers through the tangly mess. His eyes rolled back in his head and he groaned again.

"Shh!" Clarke giggled, pressing a finger to his lips like he had done to her a moment ago.

"I not'en makin' noise," He slurred, the words coming out in one long string, barely discernible. He nestled his head further into Clarke's lap.

She ran her hand up the opposite way and he sighed in heavy satisfaction. It almost seemed like simply running her fingers along his scalp was more intoxicating to him that two shots of 140 proof alcohol.

Clarke relaxed, and although she felt a little like she was petting a dog, it was nice. It was sort of empowering to see what a simple touch did to Bellamy. She spent a long time raking her fingers through the mop, untangling all the strands. His face was a content mask with closed eyes and the sweetest little smile on his lips. His breath was steady on Clarke's bare leg.

Bellamy had fallen asleep in just a few minutes, his chest rising and falling in a steady, deep rhythm. Clarke didn't stop though and she had no intention of it.

Bellamy wasn't the only one who had fallen asleep, either. It seemed like this 'party' wasn't much of a rager. Harper was snoring lightly on Monty's shoulder while he continued to watch television. Jasper was laying on his side, drooling onto the carpet beside Murphy, who had entered a competitive match of thumb wrestling with Octavia, who had lost much of her previous vigor. Miller was awake, typing something on his phone, and Raven was looking through Bellamy's notebooks on his desk.

"What're we meant to do with 'em all?" Raven asked in a whisper when Clarke herself was dangerously close to drifting off herself.

"I dunno," she mumbled. "Can't they just stay here? I mean, it'd be easier to make sure no one chokes on their own vomit if they're all in the same room."

Raven's nose turned up and Clarke's crude choice of words. "You've got a point there."

"I'm going to fall asleep if I sit here much longer though," Clarke said.

"It's okay. You two look so cute there," Raven smiled softly. "New relationships are always so sweet."

Clarke's heart sped up again, waking her up like a shot of espresso. "We're not a relationship."

Raven gave her a knowing look. "Just because you two haven't named it yet, doesn't mean there isn't something there."

Clarke's hand stilled for the first time and Bellamy shifted. If only Raven knew… "It's not like that, Raven. It's… complicated."

"How complicated could it be? You've only known each other for a couple weeks."

"I know… there's just a lot of- I don't know." Clarke considered telling Raven. The words were right on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't say them. Not now, not here in this room full of their sleeping, drunk friends. Maybe not ever.

"It's okay not to know...Yet." Raven said. "You know, Finn never officially asked me to be his girlfriend. He didn't have to, I guess, we just sort of grew together."

Clarke stared down at Bellamy's slumbering face as soon as Raven mentioned Finn.

"That's how it works, sometimes," Clarke said absently. That _wasn't _what was going to happen between her and Bellamy. Clarke didn't want that… she didn't want to be in a relationship right now, especially not with someone who knew things about her that no one else knew. Besides, Bellamy wouldn't want to date her anyway.

"Yeah, and sometimes it works the opposite way, too," Raven said, the timbre of her voice changing. Clarke looked away from the man in her lap to her friend.

"What do you mean?" Clarke asked gently, knowing the answer to her question.

Raven gave a half hearted shrug. "Something changed when we started college… we used to be best friends, there was nothing we didn't tell each other. I spent all of my time with Finn, and we were, well, inseparable. But now, he doesn't talk to me, blows off my calls, cancels plans. I don't know what to do, because I still love him. So much."

Clarke felt her gut twist, writhing like a viper in her abdomen, straining to break free even if that meant bursting straight through her skin. If Bellamy hadn't been holding her in place, Clarke thought she might have sprang from the bed and ran from the room. _She still loves him. _

A wash of guilt followed soon after. This was Clarke's fault. It really was, no matter what way she looked at it, and even though part of her screamed that she was the victim in all of this, the real victim was Raven. Raven wouldn't love Finn if she knew what he did. Or would she? Would she forgive him? Or worse yet, would she think Clarke was lying? What if Raven refused to believe the truth, refused to see Finn for what he was on the inside.

Did Clarke really know who Finn was on the inside though? Surely Raven knew him much better than Clarke did, they had been together since they were children. But how, if Finn was so evil, could Raven not have seen it? Was it something had lain dormant, hiding under the surface, until it exploded out in a disastrous, detrimental way?

"Clarke?" Raven's voice drew her from her thoughts.

She hurriedly turned to look at Raven, who had undeniable suspicion written across her features.

"Sorry," Clarke said, looking away from Raven. The pressure in the room was building, Raven's gaze was like a laser, cutting right through all of Clarke's carefully erected defenses.

"What's wrong?" she asked tersely.

Clarke's heart was pounding, beating against the confines of her ribcage. The words… the words that would tell Raven the truth, the truth that Clarke had told no one, the truth Bellamy only knew because he had been an unfortunate bystander who had a heart of gold, they were straining against Clarke's clamped teeth.

"Nothing," she forced out instead.

"Do you know something about Finn?" Raven asked, almost as if she were scared to know the answer to that question.

"No. I don't know anything about him."

**AN_**

**Ah, the wonders of underage drinking! :) Just kidding. But life can be more fun half buzzed... also kidding. Thank you to the moon and back to my wonderful betareader, ****kyliEisMC2. A true angel. **

**I love to hear from you, and, as always, **

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Birch66724**


	27. Chapter 27

Bellamy sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for his head to stop pounding. _What the hell had he gotten himself into last night? _

Murphy and Miller were sprawled out on the floor, covered in bath towels with balled up sweatshirts wedged under their heads. Octavia and Harper were on the spare bed, with Octavia more off the bed than on. Her face was smashed into the edge of the mattress, one arm and and one leg dangling towards the floor. There were soft voices filtering through the open bathroom door.

Bellamy had a guess as to who was talking, but wanted to check that he was right. And see the girl the voice belonged to. Only, he could barely sit upright without the room spinning, so walking was out of the question right now.

"Hey, you're up." The voice came from beside him now, but turning his head proved to be a challenge too. "Easy," Clarke urged.

"Goodmorning," he croaked hoarsely.

"Rough night, eh Alex?"

"You could say that." He reached up to rub his hand down his face before braving the wave of nausea to shift and face Clarke.

She perched on the corner of his bed, one leg tucked beneath her. She had showered and changed since he last remembered seeing her. The face paint and adorable braids were gone, replaced by an oversized Oregon State sweatshirt and tired expression.

When she met his eyes, he saw that she looked more than just tired; she looked exhausted and a bit unsettled_. _Immediately, Bellamy felt concern rise in him. What had happened last night? The last thing he remembered, she had been giggling with Raven as the wave of inebriation had rolled over him.

Before Bellamy could ask Clarke what was wrong, she asked him. "So, what do you remember?"

"Most of it," he lied.

Clarke smirked, "Really?"

"Mm hmm."

"Okay then. You'll be pleased to know that I haven't shared your _secret _with anyone, just like you asked," Clarke chirped.

"My what?" Bellamy asked, knowing he'd shot himself in the foot on this one.

"Oh, you know, the one you told me last night."

Bellamy had quite a few secrets, but no memory of sharing any of them. He tried to sound offhand while he asked, "What was it about, again?"

"You remember," Clarke said, standing up.

Bellamy groaned, abandoning the topic. "Wait, stay here."

Clarke turned over her shoulder from where she had crouched beside Miller, making sure he was still breathing.

"Where's Raven and Jasper and Monty?"

"We hauled Jasper and Monty into their beds, and Raven just went upstairs so she could get some sleep. D'you need something?"

"Yeah, actually. I need you to tell me what's troubling you," he said quietly, feeling bad as Clarke's head snapped up, her face darkening.

"Is it really that obvious?" Clarke returned and sat on her hands on the edge of the bed, crossing her ankles.

"To me it is," Bellamy said, watching her shoulders slump further. "So, what is it, Princess?"

Clarke took a long moment before she responded. "Well, as you remember, Raven and I didn't get drunk so we could watch out for all you goons. You'd all fallen asleep and we were sitting there...and she started talking. She started talking about..._Finn." _

Clarke took a shuddering breath and Bellamy couldn't remember a time when she'd said his name aloud. It was something she avoided.

"She was saying some stuff and teasing me, but then she started to talk about him, about how they started dating and how they were going through a rough patch or something. She was opening up and talking...and IーI tried, I really did but, I don't think I kept a straight face. I think she saw something in my expression."

Bellamy sat still, listening quietly as Clarke trudged through her explanation, feeling guilty that he'd made her retell this.

"And, she asked meーasked me if I knew something about Finn, something about why he was acting like he is. And I- oh Bellamy I was this close to telling her," Clarke whispered, looking up for the first time, her eyes telling all the emotion of the moment like a playback button on a film.

"I was going to. I was going to tell her. But the words…they just got stuck in my mouth. And now, well, she knows something's up, and I think she's got the wrong impression. I don't know what to do." Clarke sniffled as she swallowed down the emotion in her throat. Bellamy reached out for her and she hesitated only a second before leaning into his arm.

"It's okay. It's okay that you couldn't say it then, but hey, maybe this is a good thing, in a way," he soothed, putting a spin on the situation.

"A good thing?"

"Yeah, in a way. Because now you have an in to tell her, you know? So it doesn't seem so out of the blue. She's primed now, because she's already expecting something."

"She's not expecting _that." _

"Probably not, but she's expecting something _bad. _So it's not as harsh of a jump, see? It's just a few degrees worse than what she's expecting, not a freefall."

Clarke nodded into his shoulder and Bellamy felt better, for both of them. He had wanted Clarke to tell Raven from the beginning and now she had incentive to do it.

Even though they had been whispering the whole time, Clarke still pushed away from Bellamy and did a quick scan of the room, ensuring everyone was still asleep. She nodded a little bit and wiped her nose and eyes on the inside collar of her sweatshirt.

"Okay?" Bellamy asked, watching her.

She gave him a tight lipped smile. "Okay."

"Now, can you tell me about what I said last night?"

Clarke cracked a smile. Mission accomplished. "No way. It'll be a surprise for a later date."

"I don't like the sound of that."

Clarke only smiled sweetly. "How are you feeling?"

"You know, been better, been worse," he said vaguely. In truth, he felt like shit, although his vertigo had decreased significantly. Whatever Jasper and Monty were doing, they knew how to do it.

"Oh! I have something for you," Clarke said, hopping off the bed. She returned a few moments later with a plastic cup of water and four red ibuprofen pills.

"For your headache," she said.

Bellamy readily accepted, knocking back the pills. "Thanks."

"Of course," she said. "I have just enough ibuprofen left for everyone."

"Perfect."

"Yeah, I'll need to go to CVS to get more before…"

"Before what?" Bellamy asked. Clarke was making her thinking face for a moment, then she counted on her fingers, her frown deepening.

"What is it?" He asked, sensing the shift in her.

"What day is it?" she whispered.

"Uh, Sunday?"

"No, the number. Is it the seventh?"

"Eighth," he corrected.

Clarke was still for one beat, then she leapt off the bed like the thing had caught fire, scrambling to grab her phone from where it was plugged into the wall by the desk. She squatted on the floor, typing furiously on it.

"What's wrong? Forget your mom's birthday or something?" Bellamy called gently.

Clarke's face was ashen.

"I'm late," she breathed. In one quick movement she was on her feet and on her way out the door.

"Late for what?" Bellamy called as the door slammed.

"The hell," Murphy groaned from the floor, flopping over.

Bellamy frowned. Had Clarke forgotten a meeting or something? But who had meetings on Sundays? What time even was it? Bellamy reached out for his bedside clock, spinning it to face him.

6:42 AM.

It was only one more blissfully oblivious moment Bellamy had before it dawned on him, like a tidal wave crashing down over a coastal city.

Late.

What could that mean in a woman's life?

Bellamy thought his heart stopped beating right there. He went cold with the realization. Then, like a mug of hot coffee being poured, anger flooded him. That asshole had already taken _so _much from Clarke, but if he went and got her pregnant from his idiocy, Bellamy might have to kill him. Was it possible that he could ruin Clarke's life any more?

Headache be damned, Bellamy shoved himself upright, swaying on his feet for a moment before heading to the door. He accidently kicked Miller in the leg but he didn't care. He hardly noticed anything as he ran down the hall and jogged up the stairs on bare feet, praying Clarke had returned to her dorm and not gone out in a panic.

Nothing mattered but finding her. There was no way she should be alone right now. He shoved open the door to her dorm room, taken aback by the wall of blackness.

"Hello? Bellamy?" Raven called out, her voice thick with sleep. "What's going on?"

"Clarke?" Was all Bellamy could say.

"In the bathroom. What'd you do to her?" she asked. Bellamy's eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to see Raven standing outside of the bathroom door.

Bellamy ignored Raven's question, hurrying to Raven's side and gripped the doorknob, but of course it was locked. He rattled it anyway.

"Clarke?" He rapped softly on the wood, pressing his forehead to the door as he squeezed his eyes shut. He was still brimming with barely suppressed rage and this locked door was not helping things.

"It's me," he said as gently as he could.

"She came running in and locked herself in there," Raven informed him, unhelpfully.

Bellamy grit his teeth. "Clarke, open the door."

"What happened? Is she okay?" Raven kept asking questions.

"Maybe you should go check on everyone downstairs?" He bit out, rounding on her.

Her eyes widened, clearly surprised by his outburst.

"Sorry," he apologized quickly. His anger was getting the better of him. Raven was only asking as a concerned friend, but having her here right now, especially if she thought that her boyfriend had cheated on her with Clarke, would not be helpful.

"Okay," she said tersely. "I'm sleeping in your bed though."

"I don't care."

Raven frowned at the closed bathroom. "Come get me if you need anything, then." She hesitated on the threshold before closing the door slowly behind her.

Bellamy knocked again, pleading this time. "Clarke, I know what you meant. I- let me in."

No sound was heard from inside the bathroom. Bellamy pressed his ear to the door, his anxiety mounting by the moment. He paced away from the door only long enough to flick on Clarke's lamp.

"Clarke," He said, more firmly now. "Open this door or I'm going to have to break it down."

Still nothing. Bellamy clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling like there was just too much emotion inside him right now, feeling like he needed to punch something. Someone. _Finn Collins. _

"Okay, if you won't unlock the door then at least get back. I don't want to hurt you." Bellamy paused for one more moment before bracing his shoulder against the door.

"Three.. Two…" The lock clicked. Bellamy released a heavy sigh of relief and pushed the door open.

Clarke stood in the center of the bathroom, her head lowered, her hands ceaselessly fidgeting in front of her stomach. Her face was hidden behind a thick curtain of wavy blond hair.

"Oh, Clarke." Bellamy couldn't say anything else. What else was there to say? He couldn't say, '_It's all going to be alright' _or '_You'll be fine.' _or '_It's okay.' _because none of that was true. This wasn't okay! Nothing about this was even remotely okay.

Clarke stood silently, but slowly, she lifted her head. Her face was pale, so white it was practically translucent. Her cerulean eyes shone radiantly from their sunken sockets, but Bellamy couldn't even appreciate their color because they were so _terrified. _She looked like a feral animal, cornered with nowhere to run. Her next move would either be surrender or bare her teeth and fight.

"I- I should have known," she whispered, her voice a hollow shell.

"No," Bellamy said.

"If I had been thinking, I could have taken one of those...what are they… the levonorgestrel pills." She gesticulated with her hands, thinking of only the medical term for the pill.

"Plan B?" Bellamy said, cringing at the name. How could it be a plan B if there was no plan A? Clarke had never _planned _for this to happen to her. The cruel unfairness of it all surrounded her like towering brick walls, caging her in without asking her permission if she wanted to be there.

"Yes," she murmured.

"No, Clarke." He shook his head. What could he say, to make her feel like her world wasn't ending when it could very well be. "Today is the eighth, what day were you supposed to get your period?" There was no room for embarrassment in Bellamy, he was too full of every other emotion.

"The sixth."

"That's two days! And it's still early morning, so basically it's only one day," he said, but Clarke only shook her head. "Why?"

"I don't work like that, Bellamy," she said flatly. "It's thirty-one days, it's _always _thirty-one days."

Bellamy swallowed stiffly, running his hand through his hair. "You can't know. For sure. I mean, there's other stuff."

Clarke still shook her head, looking so resigned already. Bellamy felt like he was going to implode and she was just...standing there.

"Clarke, don't. You can't know for sure," he repeated, needing to say something. At some point her gaze had slipped back to the floor, but she looked up again.

"You should leave," she whispered and Bellamy's heart sank. "You don't need to get all wrapped up in this."

"No, I'm not going anywhere unless you want me to. If you don't want me here, I'll go, but I'm staying for now. You don't need to do this alone."

Clarke's exterior crumpled and fat tears snuck from her eyes, leaving long tracks down her snow-white face. Bellamy reached out and brushed them away with his thumbs, but they just kept coming.

"What am I going to do, Bellamy?" Her voice trembled like a leaf in a windstorm.

"Shh," he soothed and she sank into his arms, no longer able to support herself. "I've got you, Clarke."

He expected her to sob, for her body to shake with emotion, for her to cry out, scream maybe, but she didn't. She just sagged into Bellamy's arms until he was the only thing supporting her.

"C'mon, Princess," he murmured, scooping her up like he had several times now. He carried her over to her bed, but instead of laying her down, he pulled back the sheets and climbed in with her. It was a bit of a struggle to arrange the blankets around them while also holding her, but Bellamy made it work.

Clarke felt like dead weight against his body as Bellamy leaned against the wall, settling her on his lap with her face pressed into his shoulder. He could feel her racing heart, but she didn't make a sound.

In the soft yellow light of the lamp, Bellamy held Clarke close, being what she needed right now, and getting ready to be what she would need in the future. He was still hanging on to the hope that Clarke was wrong about this, that she had the dates messed up or her body wasn't clockwork like she thought it was, but she seemed so certain. Women have a sort of intuition about these things, don't they?

They stayed like that for a long time, Clarke hiding her face in Bellamy's shoulder while he just laid there and held her, absently rubbing his hand up and down her arm. He didn't care if Raven or anyone else walked in, he would happily tell her what had happened, happily absolve Clarke of any guilt she wrongly felt for Raven's assumptions. He honestly hoped Raven would be horrified and disgusted at the revelation, because that was _her _boyfriend, and even though Finn's actions weren't Raven's fault, she had to have some inkling.

"I have a chemistry assignment I need to get done," Clarke said, seemingly out of the blue. She sat up and wiped her face with both hands.

Bellamy was too stunned to say anything. Clarke had just come to the realization that she was _pregnant _and she was worried about her _chemistry assignment?_

As Clarke crawled out of the bed, Bellamy found his voice. "Clarke, don't worry about that right now."

"No, I need to focus on school," She said simply, walking over to her desk where her backpack was resting and started digging through it.

"School is important, but your health is too," he said logically. _And the health of your potential unborn baby. _He added in his head.

"I'm fine, Bellamy." She pulled a purple folder from the bag with a little more force than necessary.

Bellamy didn't know what to say. She was in shock, right? She had to be. No one thinking clearly would be so calm about discovering you were pregnant with a baby as the result of being sexually assaulted.

_Potentially pregnant. _

Clarke flipped through the papers in her folder before pulling one out and smoothing it on her desktop before opening her laptop. The blue glow from the screen lit her face, giving her a haunted look.

"Okay, no," he said, acting without thinking. He got up and shut Clarke's laptop, nearly catching her fingertips. He swept the papers back into the folder and stuffed them back into her backpack as Clarke stared up at him with wide eyes.

"I'm not going to sit here and watch you, do...this!" he said firmly. "You don't even know for sure that you're pregnant! You have no proof! You can't just resign and sit back and let this happen to you! And even if it turns out you are pregnant, there are still options. Don't pretend like you're okay, because you're not, but that's not bad. So just let me help you.' Bellamy let out in a heavy breath.

Clarke had frozen when he started talking, and now she looked like she was going to break down again. He had been too harsh… he'd only made this worse. Oh God, he couldn't do anything right by her.

Bellamy was about to speak up, to apologize, but Clarke nodded. "Okay," she said, nodding. "Okay."

"Okay. Good." Bellamy rubbing his palms on his shorts. "C'mon. We're going to CVS and we're going to get a test, and then we'll go from there, okay?"

"Okay," she repeated. Bellamy held out his hand and Clarke took a moment, but she accepted it and Bellamy pulled her to her feet. She grabbed her little clutch and they walked out into the hall.

Clarke clung onto Bellamy's hand so tightly her knuckles were white and imprints were left behind on Bellamy's darker skin. He didn't mind.

He hoped the wouldn't encounter anyone else on their way out of the building, but of course, as luck would have it,

"Clarke! Hey, I was just on my way up to see you!" A dark haired girl that Bellamy didn't recognise stood jogging in place on the landing between the second and third floors. If only they had taken the elevator…

Clarke tensed beside Bellamy, gripping his hand even tighter. "Lexa, hey," she said.

"I was out for a jog and I remembered you said you had my charger that I left in the library, so I figured I'd stop by and pick it up," she explained, ceasing her jogging as her gaze traveled over Clarke, to her hand joined with Bellamy's, then back to Clarke.

"Who's this?" she asked.

"Bellamy," Clarke offered no further explanation.

"Oh. Nice to meet you." Lexa outstretched a hand, sounding not at all like she was pleased to meet his acquaintance. Bellamy gave Lexa's arm a quick pump with his free hand.

"You too," he said, wishing she would move out of the way so they could continue.

"If you're heading out, I can come by later…" Lexa hedged.

"No, it's fine." Clarke dropped Bellamy's hand and turned on a heel, hurrying up the stairs. "Wait there." Bellamy watched her go until all he could hear were her footsteps echoing through the stairwell. He flexed his fingers, and although freed from Clarke's iron grip, he would have preferred she stayed right where she was.

Lexa gave him a curious look when he turned back to her.

"Rough morning," he said, feeling like he had to say something.

"So, you were going out?" The tone of Lexa's voice set him on edge, especially when he misheard her question as, '_So, you're going out?', _as in, were he and Clarke dating?

"Yes, we're going to get some ibuprofen." It wasn't a lie.

"Couldn't _you _just go get it, and let Clarke rest?" Lexa asked critically.

Bellamy shifted his weight and glared down at this Lexa chick. "Clarke wanted some fresh air."

"Hmm," Lexa grunted, dissatisfied with Bellamy's explanation. She pulled her phone out of a pocket on her leggings, glanced at it, tucked it away, then looked anywhere but Bellamy for a moment, bouncing her leg impatiently.

"So, who are you? I've never heard Clarke talk about you before." She turned a glare back on him.

Bellamy snorted. "I've never heard her talk about you, either." That _was_ a lie, Clarke had mentioned Lexa a few times, they had Composition together, he remembered, but that was all he knew about her.

"Interesting," Was all Lexa replied. "Why's she feel sick? Did you have her out drinking all night?"

Was Lexa Clarke's friend, or her mother? "No, she just doesn't feel well. Stomach ache and her head hurts." Again, not a lie.

"Hmm,"

Bellamy released an exasperated sigh and looked up the stairwell, craning his neck to see, even though he knew he would hear the door opening and Clarke's footsteps long before he saw her.

"We're friends," Bellamy said, if only to ease the tension brewing on the small landing. "She's roommates with my sister, and I live right below their dorm. I guess you could say overlapping mutual friend groups."

"Interesting," Lexa said with a critical eye.

Bellamy grit his teeth. "What's your deal?"

"_My _deal?"

"Yeah. Why are you looking at me like that? Something wrong with me?" He challenged, well aware he was acting like a child, but he didn't care. The anger at Finn was still bubbling right below the surface, and Lexa had just made herself a target.

"I don't know, is there? Because if you're playing Clarke for a fool, I'd say yes," she snapped back with just as much venom.

Bellamy's resolve staggered internally, but he held his body ridgid. "That's the last thing I'd ever do, I assure you. Not that I give a damn what you think."

Lexa scoffed. "Sure. I've seen guys like you before, _Bellamy. _Don't you belong at the frat house?"

"I'd watch myself if I were you," he growled. Lexa, clearly realizing she'd touched a nerve, pressed on.

"What? Don't you have a keg to pick up? Maybe some Rohypnal to slip into some girl's drink?"

Bellamy saw red as his hands curled into fists. If Lexa weren't a girl, he would have her knocked out cold right now. Hell, he was still considering fixing her up with a shiner. "Shut your mouth. You have no idea what you're talking about."

Lexa planted a hand on her hip and looked cockily at him, not needing words to convey her smugness.

Bellamy had been so preoccupied by the blood rushing in his ears that he hadn't heard Clarke's footsteps on the stairs until she brushed past him, holding out a black computer cord to Lexa.

"Sorry I took so long," Clarke said faintly, offering a small smile up to Lexa, who beamed back at her.

"No problem. Want me to come along to the store with you? Or I could just go for you, and you could rest?" Lexa offered, holding Clarke's gaze intently, clearly trying again to put Bellamy out.

"N-no," Clarke stammered, turning over her shoulder, seeking Bellamy out. Her action was enough for him to shake some of the anger from his vision. "We should get going, Bellamy."

"Definitely," Bellamy agreed, stepping back to Clarke's side, her hand instantly finding his again, her grip looser this time.

"Well, okay. I can make you some chicken noodle soup, I'll bring it by later," Lexa said, offering no room for Clarke to refuse. "Feel better soon!"

"No thanks," Clarke said as Lexa leaned forward and planted a kiss on Clarke's cheek. It lingered for just a second longer than necessary, but in that second, the realization dawned on Bellamy; Lexa was jealous!

"See you later," Lexa pulled back and squeezed Clarke's arm before turning and jogging off down the stairs, her computer cord swinging from one hand.

Bellamy tried to process the knowledge he'd just gained. Lexa was acting so defensive because she was interested in Clarke… that was...an unexpected but illuminating twist. He didn't know if Clarke liked girls, not that it would matter if she did, but-

Bellamy turned to look down at Clarke, who was staring down the stairs with a slightly furrowed brow.

"What was that all about?" she asked him.

"You tell me," Bellamy said back.

"I didn't even think we were that good of friends," Clarke spoke as they started down the stairs. "I mean, she's nice, and we get along, but I've only spent time with her on four occasions, and she's acting like we've been best friends for life."

Bellamy felt a funny sense of relief that Clarke was just as confused about Lexa as he had been a few minutes ago. He wondered if he should break the news to her, or let her figure it out on her own.

"At least you get some free soup out of it." Bellamy tried to joke, but Clarke only frowned.

Bellamy dropped the topic, not caring to talk about it any further. Clarke didn't seem to be interested in Lexa, so what was the harm?

Clarke pulled her hand from Bellamy's to push open the door of Frontier Hall, and crossed her arms as soon as they stepped outside. She was silent on the trip to the CVS. so Bellamy only stuffed his empty hands into his pockets and walked along beside her.

* * *

As she walked along the sidewalk, Clarke considered the cracks riddling the concrete. Or was it cement? She never really knew the difference between the two. It had been something she had asked her father on more than one occasion, but it always seemed to slip her mind. She could hear his voice in her head, the rise and fall of the syllables of his words, but the words themselves were unintelligible. It didn't matter though, because Clarke didn't care what the difference between cement and concrete was, she just wanted to hear her Dad's voice in her ear. She wanted him to reassure her, to tell her that her whole world wasn't coming to a screeching halt, teetering on the tracks, about to tip and careen off a cliff.

_Tell me it's okay, Dad._

"_Clarke, they aren't the same thing at all! You know why? Because cement is an ingredient in concrete. You see, the concrete is made of a mixture of sand, gravel, water and cement."_

The arbitrary piece of information came through, loud and clear in Clarke's head, along with the memory of when and where the conversation had happened. They were standing in front of the hospital, waiting for Abby to get off her shift. It was Clarke's twelfth birthday, and they were supposed to go out to dinner at 6:30, because Abby's shift got over at 6:00, but it was nearly seven by that point. Her dad had been chatting about everything under the sun to keep Clarke from feeling disappointed that her mother couldn't keep a commitment for her only child.

In the end, Clarke and her dad got supper alone, and Clarke was in bed before Abby came home. Clarke had pretended to be asleep when her mother leaned into her bedroom, hoping she would come over and kiss her on the forehead. But she didn't, Abby only closed the door, sealing Clarke in darkness.

The memory of her dad's voice had turned sour, so Clarke tried to push it from her head, but all she could see were the cracks in the sidewalk, looking like miniature lightning bolts or tributaries or terribly twisted snakes, running up and down the concrete. With every different shape came a memory. The time they cut the branches off the tree in the backyard after it got blown over in a thunderstorm, the time they went kayaking in the stream outside of town, the time they collected jars of bugs to look at under Clarke's microscope…

"Here," A voice broke through the memories playing back like a film in Clarke's head.

Bellamy was holding the door of the CVS open for her, looking at her with an odd expression.

"Thanks," she said softly.

The inside of the store was cold, like the air conditioning was turned up a few notches too high, and the fluorescent lights glared off the polished linoleum floor.

"Let's get the ibuprofen first," Bellamy said, steering Clarke towards the over the counter medication aisle.

She ran a finger along the white cylindrical bottles of pain relievers. Occasionally she would push one back in it's slot and let the spring mechanism force it back into place. The hollow rattling echoed down the linoleum aisle. Something in the sound reminded her of something.

"You know, I can't get this," Clarke said, pointing to the ibuprofen.

"Huh? Why not?"

"Because… it can cause high blood pressure in the fetus." That word felt strange on Clarke's tongue, especially when she was saying it in reference to herself.

"Oh." Was all Bellamy said.

After a moment of searching the shelf, Clarke picked out the cheaper, store brand acetaminophen, not the name brand Tylonal, because if you look at the ingredients and the amounts, you'd find they were identical, and people foolishly bought the name brand just because it made them feel better.

"What do you need?" Clarke asked Bellamy. He blinked at her.

"Uh, I guess I could use some more deodorant."

"Okay," Clarke led the way this time to the men's hygiene aisle, selecting a few sticks of deodorant and smelling them, wrinkling her nose at a couple before settling on one and handing it to Bellamy.

He looked curiously at her. "You like this one?"

She shrugged and nodded.

"Alrighty then." They stood in the aisle for a moment, neither one of them moving. Clarke had purposely pushed the _real _reason for their visit out of her head, but now Bellamy was standing in front of her, clearly waiting for her to take the initiative, but she didn't want to. Instead she stared at his shoes. They were black Nikes, scuffed and dirty. The white Nike swoosh on the right one had a black streak on it that looked like Sharpie marker, and the left one had a rip in the mesh right where his pinky toe would be.

He shifted his feet and prompted, "Clarke?"

She looked up. "Can we go shoe shopping? Will you let me pick out some new shoes for you?"

He faltered. It was an out of the blue question, but Clarke clearly wanted an answer. "Sure," he agreed, "But let's do this first."

She frowned. "Why bother wasting money on a dumb test if I already know what it's going to say?"

"No, Clarke. You don't know what it's going to say. I'm not saying your _intuition _or whatever the hell it is, is _wrong, _but you shouldn't get your mind set on something that might not even be true," he said harshly.

"Fine," she said, crossing her arms low and pressing them into her stomach, as if she could already feel what was going on there.

She truly felt like an idiot for not thinking about this sooner, because of course there would be..._repercussions _from what Finn did to her, but for some reason, it just didn't occur to her, even though it was glaringly obvious, looking back now. Ever since then, there had been a pit, low in her belly, something dark and ominous, just living there.

Bellamy made a disgruntled noise in his throat. "Go on then."

Clarke found herself glaring at him, but his expression only hardened under her sharp eyes, firm on his stance. Eventually, after several long seconds and an odd look from a lady down the aisle, Clarke submitted and broke their glaring match, stalking down the aisle, looking for the pregnancy tests.

She knew she was in somewhat of a dissociative state as she plucked one off the spinning rack, but it was the only way she was able to stand upright. If she stopped and thought about the magnitude of the meaning of the little cardboard box clutched in her hand, her knees would buckle and she didn't know if she would be able to stand back up.

"Shouldn't you get a couple?" Bellamy asked. "In case it's faulty or something? Maybe a couple different brands, for… what's that called? Something scientific. The scientific method."

"More like, covering all your bases," Clarke suggested.

Bellamy nodded. "I always liked sports analogies better anyways."

"That's not a sports analogy-"

He raised a brow at her.

"Oh. I guess you're right. I never really connected that saying with baseball though."

"Aww, c'mon. I thought you liked sports! You sure seemed to like the football game yesterday,"

Despite herself, Clarke's lips turned up slightly. "I like football."

"Me too. Now let's get out of here, Princess." Bellamy nodded towards the register at the front of the store. Clarke looked everywhere but the three different tests in his hand as he walked away.

She hung back from the register, pressing two twenty dollar bills into Bellamy's hand and leaving the transaction to him.

"Hello, find everything you need today?" A cheery older woman said with a smile that seemed genuine, not like the smile most retail workers plastered on for the sake of customer service.

"Yep," Bellamy said, letting everything that was cradled in his arm fall on to the checkout counter.

"Good, glad to hear," she chirped, reaching forward to scan the first item. Clarke read her name badge: Joy. Fitting. She had a southern accent and too much blue eyeshadow.

Clarke watched, as if in slow motion, Joy's face fell as she grasped the small pink _First Response _box. Her eyes glanced up to Bellamy, a sort of disappointed expression replacing her smile. She looked like a grandmother, scolding her grandkids during Easter mass when they pulled the psalm books from the back of the pew and dogeared the pages.

Joy's gaze shifted to Clarke, who tried -unsuccessfully- to tuck herself behind Bellamy. She softened a bit, making Clarke wonder what she looked like for a second, before realizing that she didn't care what this random CVS checkout lady thought about her.

"You know, my daughter had her first baby at seventeen," Joy said as she scanned the test and an electronic beep from the register fractured her words.

Bellamy grunted, clearly disinterested.

"I wasn't too pleased, but her boyfriend, now husband, did the right thing. He's a good man."

_Beep._

"And honestly, I couldn't imagine my life without that little baby. She's grown now, of course, she just had her birthday and she turned...oh…" _Beep. _"Thirty-one?" Joy smiled fondly, pausing with the bottle of acetaminophen halfway to the scanner. "They change your life in ways you would never imagine." She looked only at Clarke when she said this, and Clarke found herself looking into this old woman's eyes, almost as if in a trance. The soothing lilt of this woman's voice had Clarke transfixed.

_Beep._

"And my daughter, she was young, but she was a good girl, and her husband, he came through. She couldn't have done it without him, of course." She dropped the pill bottle into the bag and smiled wryly. "Takes two to make the baby, so it ought to take two to raise it."

Clarke smiled as Bellamy handed the bills to her. Joy counted out their change and handed it back to Bellamy, giving his hand a little squeeze as she placed the coins in his palm.

"You'll be alright, dear," she said, handing over the bag to Clarke. "This one seems like a good one," she added with a nod at Bellamy.

"He is," Clarke assured Joy, who chuckled slightly and shook her head. Clarke glanced up at Bellamy, who was looking down at her with a gentle, yet unreadable expression.

"Ah, young love," Joy sighed, then made a shooing motion at them. "Get goin' now, your future is a-waitin'!"

Clarke, a bit taken back by the comment, couldn't respond. Luckily, Bellamy was there, just like he always was.

"Thank you, ma'am. Have a good day." He dipped his head to Joy and she pressed a hand to her chest, pursing her smiling lips together. "C'mon, Princess."

Bellamy's fingers threaded through Clarke's naturally and led her out of the store, back into the sunny Sunday morning. Clarke squinted into the light, glad to have Bellamy there to guide her. He sneezed loudly as they stepped off the curb, shaking his head from side to side like a dog as he groaned.

"What was that?" Clarke was amused as his eyes welled up from the force of his sneeze.

He shrugged and took a deep inhale, woking his jaw as if trying to settle it back into place. "Dunno. Sometimes when I walk out into the bright light, it makes me sneeze."

"That was a rough sneeze."

"I sneeze on the policy of _go big or go home,"_ he says breezily.

"Noted."

The plastic CVS bag swung slightly in Clarke's hand as they walked back towards campus, and she wondered if anyone could see through the partially transparent plastic, to the contents inside. She wondered if they would assume that the man she was holding hands with as she walked down the street was the father, just as Joy had assumed.

"Did you mean what you said?" Bellamy interrupted her thoughts.

"What?"

"What you said to that lady, that I'm a '_good one'_?" he asked, almost sheepishly. Clarke pulled back on his hand so he would face her.

She frowned at him before assuring, "Of course I did."

Bellamy's lips lifted slightly and he turned away from Clarke, looking out over the street, which was relatively quiet, just a lady jogging down the opposite sidewalk and a man walking two small black dogs on extendable leashes.

Clarke misread his expression and quickly added, "I'm sorry I didn't correct her..when she thought that you were… that wasn't right, but I just couldn't stand to say anything." Clarke didn't admit that it hadn't even crossed her mind until now to correct the lady, because it wouldn't seem so bad if the man who'd knocked her up at least had the decency to take her to the pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test.

"No, no," Bellamy said, then added, "_Potentially pregnant." _

Clarke hummed, flexing her fingers before settling back along the ridges of Bellamy's knuckles.

"And Clarke, I don't mind. I mean, if you want to tell people that it's mine…"

She stopped, pulling him to a halt beside her. With that one sentence, he'd broken her carefully erected dam, and the emotion and the weight of the situation came crashing down, washing over her in relentless waves.

Bellamy turned concerned, instantly, like always. "Unless you don't want to, I just thought…" he stumbled over his words to explain, looking slightly flustered as he rubbed at his chin where a layer of stubble had settled, making him look older.

"Oh, Bellamy," Clarke murmured, unable to resist and threw her arms around his neck, whacking him with the CVS bag as she clung to him.

He staggered, but didn't hesitate to return the squeeze, pressing one hand to the back of her head and the other to the small of her back, flattening her body against his. His scratchy jawline scraped along the side of Clarke's head as his fingers threaded into her hair, massaging her scalp.

"I would never ask you to do that, but you saying that means more than you'll ever know."

"You didn't ask. I offered," he said flatly.

Clarke reluctantly pulled back and Bellamy released her after a moment more, seemingly unwilling to let her out of his arms, which made Clarke's chest flutter, and now was _most _definitely not the place nor the time.

"That's because you're a good man." She smiled sadly at him.

"I just do what has to be done."

That didn't feel good to hear, and Clarke drew up and said snipply, "You make me sound like your obligation. You are free to leave anytime!" Those words hurt to say, scraping along Clarke's throat as she forced them out, desperate to stay unsaid, because if Bellamy left, she would be lost. So lost.

Bellamy blinked, then hardened right back at her. "Have I ever said that?"

Clarke's answer came easily. "No."

"Then why would you say that?"

The words were coming out before Clarke could stop them. "Because I'm scared, Bellamy. And I haven't had anybody who just- takes care of me. Not since Dad died… and I don't know how to deal with it. I feel like I owe you something, because you do so much for me. _So much._ You do the things no one else could, and I, I don't do anything except cause more and more problems for you! I feel like I'm using you, and I'm too scared to lose you to say anything about it!"

"You just did." Bellamy smirked and a strangled laugh escaped Clarke's throat.

"I guess I did."

"And I'm still here?" Bellamy raised a brow.

"And you're still here," Clarke repeated.

"Alright, that's settled then," he said matter-of-factly. "Now let's go home. Do you have to pee yet?"

**AN_**

**We all need a Bellamy in our lives. I know that was a heavy chapter... and I hope I did it justice.**

**Thank you all so much for reviewing the previous chapter! That is the most reviews I have ever received on a single chapter, and it made my week. I had left on a short trip just after I posted it, and didn't have my phone or computer, so I didn't see them all until I returned home. Let's just say I thought there was some sort of mistake! So, thank you, thank you, thank you! And I know you are all waiting for Clarke to finally tell Raven, and don't worry, we are ****_almost_**** there. I hope it lives up to what you are all expecting, and I think it will be a pretty big surprise. That's all I'm going to say though! Sorry...**

**Again, thank you for reading and reviewing, you are all wonderful people. :)**

**-Birch66724**


	28. Chapter 28

Clarke hung back in the lobby, the twisted handle of the CVS bag in one hand and her phone in the other, waiting as Bellamy jogged upstairs to investigate where everyone was.

His text came quickly, before she had much of a chance to unpack her emotions, which was probably a good thing.

_B: Come up to your dorm. they are all still asleep in mine._

Attached to the text was an image that took Clarke several seconds to decipher. It was a tangle of limbs, dark hair and a crumpled blanket; a pile of people on the spare bed. Harper's leg braced against the wall, her arm slung over Octavia's face, and Raven curled into a ball at the foot of the bed, her head resting on Octavia's calf.

Clarke ached at the sight of the picture, however comical it may be, it only showed what she was missing out on. She should be lazing around Bellamy's dorm with the rest of them, and he should be too. But instead, they were doing _this. _

"Hey," Bellamy greeted as she swung the door open, breathing heavier than normal having just sprinted up the stairs.

"Fancy seeing you here," she said, shutting the door firmly.

Bellamy scoffed and pulled open the window blind before crossing the room and flicking on the bathroom light. Clarke stood and watched him, suddenly frozen with apprehension and fear at what was about to happen. Bellamy rummaged through the bathroom drawers, mumbling to himself.

Clarke was about to ask him what he was looking for, when she herself realized it.

"I should'a grabbed one of those cups when I was downstairs." He stood up, rubbing his brow.

"It's fine," Clarke said, glancing around. "I'll use this,"

She picked up the half full, green Nalgene bottle from her desk, barely noticing Bellamy's grimace over the flood of memories the bottle gave her. A sort of nostalgic longing flushed through her, because, of course, something as simple as a water bottle had ties to her father. When Clarke had acquired the bottle was a hazy, forgotten memory, but it had been her constant companion throughout high school, both at school, and on weekend nature hikes with her father. He'd once fished it out of a creek with a stick, snagging the plastic loop as it bobbed in the current after slipping out of Clarke's pack.

"Don't you drink out of that?" Bellamy disrupted her reverie.

Clarke shrugged. "Urine is sterile, and I'll wash it."

"Whatever works, I guess."

"We transported a tree in this bottle once," Clarke said, more to herself than Bellamy.

"Huh?"

"Yeah, one time my dad and I saw this scraggly little pine growing out of a crack in a rock, so we dug it up, filled the bottle with dirt, and brought it home. Transplanted it in our backyard, right beside my parent's bedroom window. Mom threw a fit, saying how it was going to grow and block all of the natural light, but it was like, two inches tall, so we just laughed. Now it's probably four feet tall, and when it's windy, it brushes against the glass so loudly my mom has to sleep on the couch. I don't think she minds now though… reminds her of Dad i'm sure."

Bellamy smiled and Clarke looked up. His brown eyes were warm and melted her from the inside out. "So, it's seen worse than a little bit of pee?"

"Oh yeah." She returned his smile. They stood for a moment, Clarke still reminiscing, before Bellamy broke the spell.

"Let me open these all up, and you go fill the bottle." He took the plastic bag from her hand and tipped the contents onto her rumpled bed.

"Well, when you put it like that…" Clarke said dryly, making Bellamy chuckle and shoo her into the bathroom.

Clarke clicked the door closed, and purposely avoiding her reflection in the mirror, poured the remaining water from the bottle, scraping her thumbnail against the scratched white lettering on the side.

Figuring out the logistics of the task at hand was fairly simple; it was a wide-mouthed bottle after all. She listened to Bellamy through the door as he opened up the cardboard boxes and rustled paper and felt so unbelievably grateful that he was here.

She slowly washed her hands and splashed some cool water on her face before opening the door. Bellamy stood in the morning light streaming through the window, his curls falling over his eyes as he read over the instructional sheet inside on the tests. He had his bottom lip pinched between his teeth as he alternated looking at the paper in one hand and the white stick in his other.

He looked up after a moment. "Okay, this one you dip, and this one you drip."

"What?" Clarke nearly giggled despite herself. Bellamy just had that effect on her, the innate ability to make an awful situation seem not so terrible. To make her smile, even in the face of a life altering event.

She set the bottle on the desk next to the rest of the things that Bellamy had laid out, sort of self conscious about the fact that she just set down a container of her own warm urine beside him.

"So you thought that was crazy, but wait til you hear this," He stated, grabbing up all three opened tests. "This one has two lines, this one has a plus sign, and this one actually says the word _pregnant _on it if it's positive."

"Wow," Clarke said, for lack of something better.

"It's wild," Bellamy agreed, placing the tests, two stick-like ones, and one smaller, rectangle one that came with a little dropper.

"You don't have to do this part," Clarke intercepted his hand as he reached for the Nalgene bottle.

He paused. "You think I'm going to get scared of a little pee?"

"No, but… it's kinda gross."

"You underestimate me, Clarke Griffin," he said simply, reaching over top of her barricading arm and picking up the bottle, holding it up to the light. "Hmm, four, no, four and a _half _ounces. Pretty weak performance," he said in a fake disapproving tone.

"Stop it!" Clarke snorted. "I haven't had anything to drink yet today."

Bellamy only clucked his tongue as he unscrewed the bottle and Clarke realized the absurdity of defending her amount of urine to Bellamy. To anybody! What a weird conversation.

Bellamy muttered aloud as he carried out all three tests, and Clarke found her heart beating faster and faster with every passing second. Bellamy counted as he held the sticks into the bottle before capping them and setting them face up on the desk. He tilted the bottle and drew up a dropper of liquid and counted out five drops for the rectangle test, then squirted the rest back into the bottle. Clarke wrung her hands as he stood up with a sigh.

"There," he tossed the dropper into the bathroom trash. "I was pretty good at that, maybe I should be a scientist?"

Clarke was too tense to joke now. "You can be whatever you want to be," she said honestly, grabbing the bottle and taking it to the bathroom. She poured out the contents and started scrubbing it under hot water, using hand soap and a washcloth. She had to keep her hands busy, even after she was satisfied that the bottle was clean, so they didn't shake. She scrubbed and scrubbed, seeing right through the washcloth and soap, through the bathroom and into nothing.

"Hey." A hand fell on her shoulder

Clarke gasped, the bottle slipping from her hands and clattering hollowly on the ceramic.

"Sorry, Princess," Bellamy murmured, reaching around her and shutting off the water before grabbing a towel and draping it across Clarke's red hands.

She mumbled a thank you and dried her hands, more forcefully than necessary. Bellamy plucked the towel from her after a long time and she slowly turned around, not looking at him, She braced herself on the sink and stared at Bellamy's shirt. It was the U of M one he had been wearing yesterday, the maroon cotton wrinkled and still smelling like sleep.

"Feeling okay?"

How to even answer that question… "I'm peachy," Clarke said in a weak attempt at a joke, clutching the cold ceramic lip of the sink, still scared her hands were shaking.

"Hmpf, cute," Bellamy scoffed. He stood close to her, close enough that she could hear the steady rhythm of his breathing, but she didn't feel cornered or pressured by him. Not at all. His proximity is like a shot of benzodiazepine, soothing her raging mind and relaxing her muscles.

"They need about three minutes to work, it says," Bellamy hinted. It had definitely been three minutes.

"Hmm." Clarke still wouldn't meet his gaze, instead opting to sweep some hair off the counter into the trash can below.

Bellamy made a noise of disgust. "I should have listened to your warning about staying out of your guys' bathroom."

"Huh?"

"You don't remember? When we were talking that one day, I don't even remember how it came up, but I told you something about how I don't like hair, and you said _stay out of our bathroom, then. Four girls shed a lot."_

"Oh yeah," Clarke brushed her hands on her pants. "You were saying what it was like to live with Octavia, that she always leaves her hair in the bathroom."

"That was it! I knew you'd remember."

"It's true though, girls do shed. And we all have long hair, and share one bathroom, so it's bound to be a bit...furry."

Bellamy chuckled, "Yeah," then paused. Clarke knit her fingers together, eyeing the tests from the bathroom, although she couldn't see the results from her vantage point. Bellamy must have followed her gaze, because he questioned, "Are you ready to look? We can wait, too. I like chillin' in the bathroom."

"I- Can you look?" Clarke asked, her voice breaking as she looked up to meet Bellamy's tender brown eyes for the first time since he came in.

He nodded slowly, considering her. "If you want me to."

"Yes," Clarke said hurriedly, her gaze flickering from the white sticks on the desk back to Bellamy. "Please, I really want you to."

"Okay," he agreed.

It felt like Bellmay could have run a marathon in the time it took him to walk from the bathroom to the desk, though it was a mere five steps. He framed the tests with his hands and leaned down, examining them closely. Clarke stood rooted to the white tile flooring, scarcely breathing, dread building higher and higher with every second Bellamy squinted at the tests.

Clarke already knew what they were going to say, so why was she panicking now? Why should a stupid piece of plastic make her feel as though she was being ripped apart at the seams, just by confirming something she already knew?

Finally, after an eternity and the whole world ceasing to spin, Bellamy straightened up and turned to Clarke, who was gripping the sink so hard she was shocked it hadn't splintered under her hands.

His face flickered like a fire with suppressed emotion. Was that a good or a bad sign? Was he trying to hide his fear, disappointment, concern? Or struggling to keep his celebration under wraps?

Clarke stared back at him, too terrified to move.

"Come look." He nodded towards the desk, his voice thick. Clarke managed a minute shake of her head, so Bellamy reached out a hand. His long fingers stretched out towards her, seeking her, biding her forward, waiting for her.

It took a moment to gather the courage, but Clarke pushed off the sink and latched onto Bellamy's hand, gripping so tightly she felt his knuckles roll together, squeezed to the point of cracking. He didn't seem to mind and he drew her in, like reeling in a fish. She came reluctantly, keeping her eyes on him, not looking towards the pregnancy tests lined up on the wooden desktop like soldiers, waiting to deliver the final blow.

Bellamy spun Clarke so her back pressed into his chest and she switched to clutching his forearm which he laid across her collarbone.

"Look," he gently commanded.

Clarke swallowed and stole herself.

A single line.

A negative sign.

A digital display reading _NOT PREGNANT_ in definitive, all capital letters.

* * *

Bellamy thought he might have been more relieved than Clarke at the revelation that she wasn't pregnant. One would have thought it was his potential baby, the way a heavy sigh left his lungs and he felt like he was floating on clouds. He had offered for Clarke to say it was his...but the relief was more than avoiding that potential. It was more of a secondhand relief for Clarke, that she wouldn't be faced with an impossible choice or an unwanted baby.

"I'm not religious, but I feel like I should be kneeling down to a higher power," Clarke murmured, her voice a far cry from the shakey gasps it had been a few moments ago. A certain steadiness and clarity that came only with concrete facts anchored her words.

"Me neither, but maybe we should start going to church?" Bellamy said, half joking.

"Hmm," Clarke scoffed, "I wouldn't go that far. If God _was _real, He wouldn't have gotten me into this mess in the first place."

"You're probably right," he murmured into her hair, which was still pressed into his chest. He thought about his beliefs, which was something he hadn't done in quite some time, not since he used to kneel beside his bed and pray in the lamplight when he was a child. He believed in a God, maybe not _the _God, but he knew there was something out there, someone who looked out for the world, because there were just too many unexplainable instances to deny the existence of a deity. The number of times Bellamy had stepped foot inside of a church though, Catholic or otherwise, could be counted on one hand. There was one place he considered holy, and it was miles away from any parish hall or synagog.

He felt Clarke's shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath and her small fingers unclenched from his forearm. He released her after a second and she stepped away, picking up each of the tests in turn, verifying that they were all indeed negative.

She traced a finger along the smooth white plastic, marvelling at it. It made Bellamy wonder, if one day, the result on the test would be the opposite, positive, and Clarke's reaction would be the same. Some day when she was happily married and financially stable and emotionally ready for a baby, would she look back and think about what _could _have been?

Clarke turned around and smiled widely at Bellamy, looking carefree in a way he had only seen glimpses of, at the football game and when she was baking.

"Thank you, Bellamy Alexander Blake, for doing this for me," she said.

"Hey, it was all you. I was just here for moral support."

She rolled her eyes and chuckled softly, shaking her head so her golden curls swayed around her face.

Just then, a knock sounded from the outside door and it cracked open.

"Can I come in?" Raven questioned uncertainty, poking her nose through the crack.

"Uh, yeah, just a sec," Clarke flashed an alarmed look at Bellamy, who grabbed the bathroom trash can and swiped all of the pregnancy test paraphernalia into the bin, stuffing it beside the sink as Raven stepped inside.

She looked curiously at the two of them before asking Clarke, "You feeling okay? You seemed pretty upset earlier."

"Uh, yeah. I had an upset stomach… you know how I had that one night? I just didn't want to make a scene again." Clarke rubbed her hand up and down her arm as she lied smoothly to her roommate.

Raven nodded. "You think you better go to the clinic or something? Maybe you've got like, low white count or something?"

"No," Clarke smiled a bit. "I'm fine. And symptoms of low white blood cell count are fever and chills and swelling."

"Hmphf. I just heard that one of those doctor shows one time. Thought it would make me sound smart." Raven smirked as she walked over to her bed.

"You are smart, Raven."

"Yeah yeah. I'll leave the medical stuff to you, though."

"Sounds like a plan." Clarke nodded.

"Glad you're feeling better though," she trailed off. "Have you seen my chapstick?"

Bellamy tried to make himself scarce as Clarke rummaged through her nightstand and chatted with Raven. She seemed like she was doing just fine, but he could see the pink cardboard edge of one of the boxes. When both girls had their backs turned, he ducked into the bathroom and shook the bin, then unspooled several squares of toilet paper and arranged them on top of the garbage, hiding it's contents.

Satisfied, he slid into Clarke's desk chair inconspicuously, feeling a little bit like a poorly trained undercover spy.

"Ah hah!" Raven cried triumphantly, tugging her arm out from where it was wedged behind Clarke's bed, proudly holding up the little yellow tube of chapstick. "Reyes with the find of the day." She took a bow as she hopped off Clarke's bed.

"What are the odds I'm going to get my dorm back anytime soon?" Bellamy asked, planning his escape.

"Uh, maybe by this afternoon? Murphy is dead, I'm pretty sure. I kicked him and he didn't even move. Your sister was awake, but she just stumbled into the bathroom and fell back asleep."

"Great," Bellamy groaned before heaving himself out of the chair. His own night of inebriation was catching up to him now that his panic about Clarke had subsided. His head pounded despite Clarke's ibuprofen, and he felt like he could sleep until it was dark out if given the chance.

"I can help you get rid of them!" Raven said eagerly, turning to pull a contraption from her drawer.

"The hell is that?"

"It's an airhorn, of sorts," Raven said, flipping a small loop of wire over a silver canister mounted on a black handle.

"Of sorts?" Clarke questioned.

Raven shrugged before grinning mischievously. Clarke shared a look with Bellamy as Raven started winding a small crank on the side of the crude device.

"That's something I would have expected from Jasper and Monty. I thought you were more sophisticated than that."

Raven chuckled. "Trust me Blake, this is about as sophisticated as it gets."

"You know, I think I'll pass, but thanks for the offer."

Raven frowned before tossing the contraption back in the drawer. "Your loss."

"Another time."

"Deal."

Clarke yawned loudly, apologizing when Bellamy raised a brow at her.

"Why don't you take a nap? I've got some errands to run before I kick the sleeping beauties out of my dorm."

"Yeah I think I-" Clarke's sentence was fractured by another wide yawn. "Good idea," she murmured sheepishly, tugging back the rumpled covers of her bed.

"See you later," Bellamy said, making for the door.

"Sure," Clarke called back, already sounding half asleep.

"Hey, let me know if you need any help!" Raven yelled enthusiastically as Bellamy shut the door. He had to admit he was a bit curious about Raven's air horn, but today wasn't the day for any more surprises.

Bellamy quietly let himself into his dorm, wanting to take a shower and change clothes, but that idea was immediately thwarted by the sight of Octavia half in half out of the bathroom, snoring on the floor. Bellamy knew that the alcohol was going to hit her hard and had a bit of an _I told you so _moment.

Harper was tucked up the corner of the spare mattress, nursing a water bottle as she absently watched _The Match Game _on mute. The TV cast flickering blue light over Miller and Murphy, looking exactly as they had when Bellamy left an hour ago.

"Hi Bellamy," Harper said groggily, nodding at him.

"Hey," he replied. Stepping over his sister, he looked in on Jasper and Monty, both dead to the world in their beds. With a resigned sigh, he heaved Octavia up from the floor, sidestepped Miller's outhrown arm, and settled his sister into his bed, which was crumpled in the shape of a person.

Octavia groaned and curled in on herself. Bellamy prayed she wouldn't vomit on his only set of sheets as he fished out a clean t-shirt from his drawer. He settled for washing his face and brushing his teeth instead of a full on shower. He tossed his dirty tee into the corner of the bathroom and grazed a hand over the stubble on his chin. He had the 5 o'clock shadow look down, and it didn't look half bad in his opinion.

"Keep an eye on the place, alright?" He asked Harper, who only nodded, watching as Gene Rayburn laughed on screen in the foolish seventies game show.

The Match Game was a bit of a nostalgic flashback for Bellamy, because reruns of the show were one of the things that played on the free channels of the television. He used to guess the answers along with Betty White and Richard Dawson, even if he didn't understand half of the questions.

The day had gotten him feeling all kinds of ways about his past. Clarke's situation hit too close to home with the things surrounding him and Octavia when they were children, and as much as Bellamy tried not to think about it, it was hard.

He found himself walking down the sidewalk, retracing the route to CVS as he listened to the sound of traffic and church bells chiming in the distance. It was Sunday morning after all.

Bellamy's route led him directly past St. Lawrence Catholic Church, and he paused outside of the building. People dressed in their Sunday best made their way up the steps, talking amongst themselves, and no one seemed to notice him as he stood and stared at the ornate brick building. He had no draw to enter and attend the service, but the irony of the coincidence was not lost on him.

For a long time, he stood and stared at the church, not thinking about much, but feeling everything. He watched a family with three little children rush up the steps ten minutes after the service had started, the mother rushing two little boys in button down shirts towards the door, while her husband followed, holding a little girl in a pink dress on his hip. He held open the heavy wooden door for his sons, then kissed his wife on the cheek and took her hand as they entered the sanctuary.

Bellamy warmed at the scene, hooking his thumbs in his pockets before finally walking on. A block later, he had to wait for traffic to cross the street, and admired a patch of purple flowers growing around a street pole. He reached out a hand and ran his thumb along the silky pedals and found himself picturing Clarke with one of the blooms tucked behind her ear, a beautiful contrast to her fair skin and blond hair. He considered bringing a few back for her, but he doubted she would have a vase or even a cup to put them in. And then her roommates would question where they came from, and she wouldn't want to lie, then Octavia would probably get pissed for some stupid reason and Raven would tease Clarke. So, perhaps not.

Instead, he snapped a quick picture of the flowers, but didn't get the chance to send it to Clarke before the traffic light switched and Bellamy jogged across the road.

He entered the CVS for the second time that morning as an idea formed for a gift that was more practical than flowers, and had an air of humor that Clarke was sure to appreciate. He strolled casually through the aisles, feeling rather superior to most men in the fact that he didn't get embarrassed in the women's hygiene aisle. Maybe it was due to growing up with a little sister, or maybe it was because Bellamy was simply more practical and level-headed than most men. He liked to think it was the later, even if it probably was due to Octavia.

He picked out a box and came to the counter, snagging a pack of gum from the rack by the register as well.

"Back again?" The cashier said brightly, smiling at Bellamy.

He nodded and set the tampons and gum on the counter. "Yep."

Joy took notice of his purchases and turned her wrinkle-lined face to him. "Seems like your tests were negative?"

For some reason, Joy's intrusive comment didn't rub Bellamy the wrong way. "Yeah, they were," he confirmed.

"Well, congratulations then. I'm not sure what someone is supposed to say when you're _not _pregnant, but I got the impression that's what you were hoping for?" Joy rang up the items.

"Yeah. It just wasn't- the right time, or best situation."

Joy nodded, taking Bellamy's money. "Well, for what's it worth, I know you would have made the best of it, sweetie."

"Thanks. I certainly would have tried to."

"Goody! There are not enough decent men in the world these days. Half of 'em would have run for the hills at the very thought of a baby," Joy clucked her tongue. "Thanks for tipping the scale in the right direction."

Bellamy chuckled. "That's high praise."

"Well, you know what they say, praise is more powerful than prayer."

"Hmm, haven't heard that one."

Joy handed him the plastic bag. "It's an old one, can't tell you what it's from though. I had a great aunt that used to say it."

"Huh."

"Well anyway. I won't keep you. Go on back to your girl. And stay out of trouble!" Joy shooed him from the register.

"Will do. Good day, ma'am," Bellamy smiled at her, loving the sound of '_your girl'. _He supposed it did seem like he and Clarke were a couple, but she had only been clinging to his hand for comfort and support, and he had only been letting her because she needed him.

**AN_**

**I hope that was the outcome that everyone was hoping for! I just didn't have the heart to make poor Clarke pregnant. Although I ****thoroughly ****entertained the idea of pregnant Clarke, I realized that that hadn't been my intention when starting HFY, and it just simply wasn't the story I wanted to write.**

**Thank you all so much for the reviews! As I am posting this, we are sitting at 98, which is just so beyond incredible. I have a feeling we might break the 100 (no pun intended) mark this chapter, so thank you in advance, both to my new readers and to my faithful reviewers who have been here since the start. **

**Huge thank you, my lovely beta, ****kyliEisMC2 for, well, beta-ing. :)**

**Thanks for reading,**

**-Birch66724**


	29. Chapter 29

Clarke sat up in bed, raking her fingers through her tangle of hair in a vain attempt to tame the wild curls. She'd fallen into an easy, deep sleep after Bellamy had left, relief fueling her exhaustion and relaxation. Now, she was well rested and feeling at peace, both with herself and the world.

Raven was nowhere to be found, but Octavia and Harper were lounging in their dorm, eating Ritz crackers and quizzing each other on history terminology.

"Hey Clarke," Harper said when Clarke let herself in.

"How come you don't look like shit?" Octavia questioned critically. The bags under her eyes matched the color of her hair, making her look a bit like a raccoon.

"I stayed sober," Clarke said, somewhat smugly as Octavia glowered.

"You're smarter than me, then," Harper said, shifting the textbook in her lap.

"Or lamer."

"Is lamer even a word?"

"Pretty sure it's a bus company," Harper interjected

"I dunno. But if it isn't a word, I just made it one, specifically so I can apply it to you."

Clarke slid down beside them. "Thanks, Octavia."

"Sure thing. Now, what do you know about the-" Octavia leaned over and read the header of the page in Harper's lap. "_Technological and Environmental Advances from 10,000 BCE to 600 BCE?" _

Clarke snacked on crackers and talked with her friends for thirty minutes, sometimes about history, but mostly about random things, like Monty's obsession with hydroponic farming or the spot of mold growing in the corner of the shower.

Her phone chimed with a text from Bellamy.

_B: You home? I have a little something for you._

_C: Alexander! Yes, I'm here. :)_

_B: Alright, see you in 5._

Clarke smiled to herself and two minutes later, excused herself from the 'study' session to use the bathroom, making sure to lock the door behind her.

Bellamy signalled his arrival a moment later with a soft knock.

"Come in," Clarke called softly, cracking a grin as he poked his head through the door and whispered,

"Is Raven here?"

"No, I don't know where she is, actually."

"Okay, good," Bellamy came all the way into the dorm, holding something behind his back. He looked like a goofy Santa Claus as he glanced around the dorm room, ensuring that he wasn't going to be spotted in the act of delivering his gift.

"She's not here, you dork!" She was a bit worried about the nature of this gift if Bellamy had to be so secretive about it, but more than that, she was curious.

"Just double checking." He gave Clarke a lopsided grin and produced a square box wrapped in a plastic bag. Clarke raised a brow, amused at the way he'd tied the handle so they stuck up in a little bow on top.

"Admiring my wrapping skills?"

"Yes, very impressive,"

"Thank you. Had to improvise, you know. Who brings gift wrap to college?"

Clarke shrugged, wondering what Bellamy could have possibly gotten her.

"Now, this isn't meant to be a _serious _gift, so don't get your hopes up," he warned.

"Okay…"

Bellamy grinned and tossed the package to her. Clarke caught it lightly, guessing it's contents were not fragile. She looked up at him and he nodded.

"Go on, open it. I think you'll love it."

"You know my birthday's not for another month, right?" Clarke said, undoing the plastic bow.

"I know, October eleventh. But this is more of a _congratulatory _gift."

Clarke was warmed at the knowledge that Bellamy had remembered her birthday. She slid the bag from the gift and turned it around, recognising the product immediately.

Whatever she had been expecting from Bellamy, it _certainly _wasn't a box of tampons. She gave him a curious look and he chuckled, running his hand along his neck like he did so often. He looked easy and relaxed with his elbow bent beside his head, showing off his arm…

"So you like it?"

Clarke blinked, diverting her gaze and flushing. "Uh yes?"

"I wanted to get you something practical, and I figured, since the tests were negative, you'd be needing those."

"You know..." she didn't continue her sentence, too caught up in the somewhat surreal intimacy of Bellamy buying her tampons, even if it was meant as more of a gag gift.

He looked expectantly at her, so Clarke let loose her fond smile.

"Thank you, Bellamy. That was very thoughtful of you."

"My pleasure," he bowed, smiling goofily.

"I'll be sure to put these to good use," Clarke said, then grimaced. Bellamy only laughed though.

"Anyway, text me later? I've got to get back. Miller couldn't believe it when I told him I've never played Call of Duty: Warzone."

"What's that?"

"Dunno, but I guess I'm gonna go find out," Bellamy shrugged.

"Huh. Have fun. I've got to get back to helping your sister study for her World History Class."

"Uhg, I love history. Wanna go play Call of Duty with Murphy and I can stay here?" Bellamy whined, hanging on the door handle.

"Absolutely not. And you would like _history, _you big dork," Bellamy stuck his tongue out at Clarke as he swung the door open. "Go play video games like a normal college boy!"

"See ya later, Princess."

"Bye, Paris."

The door clicked shut and Clarke looked down at the box in her hands, smiling faintly at Bellamy's thoughtfulness. She truly didn't deserve his friendship.

Just as Clarke shut the cabinet door after putting the tampons away, there was another knock at the door.

Clarke's chest jumped and she didn't try to hide her grin as she swung the door open again.

"What? Did you forget to give me-" Clarke's sentence dried up on her tongue when she realized, with much embarrassment, that it was, in fact, _not _Bellamy standing at the threshold.

Lexa gave Clarke an odd look before holding out a glass bowl of soup as explanation.

"Sorry!" Clarke quickly apologized, cursing herself as she stepped aside to let Lexa into her room.

"You're fine," Lexa said, glancing around the space. "Were you expecting someone?"

"No…not really." Clarke tried to sound offhand to avoid sounding sheepish and the fact that she had been a teensy bit disappointed not to see Bellamy waiting for her instead.

"So what brings you by? I gave you back your phone charger, didn't I?"

Lexa smiled at Clarke like one might smile at a child who'd gotten a simple math equation wrong. "You gave me my computer cord back, but I didn't know you'd stolen my phone charger too."

Clarke shook her head, "Sorry! Computer cord, right."

"And the soup." Lexa held up the container for a second time. "But you seem to be feeling much better now."

"Oh yes, I am." Clarke nodded, accepting the hot bowl from Lexa. "Thank you for this, though. I could always use a free meal," Clarke chuckled, trying the relatable broke college student approach.

Lexa's tight-lipped smile betrayed her lack of amusement.

"Not that I don't appreciate it! It's more about the gesture than the actual food. And that was a nice gesture! You're a good friend, Lexa." Clarke fumbled through her sentence. Lexa had a sort of commanding presence, and right now, Clarke couldn't help but feel like she was failing to impress her.

"No, I get the sincerity, really. And it's not a big deal at all, I needed to make some food for myself anyway, so I just doubled the ingredients and-" she waved to the bowl, which Clarke had set on the desk, "-there ya go."

Clarke smiled for lack of anything to say.

Lexa though, continued on with the overly concerned friend facade. "What was wrong this morning, then?"

"I- no. It's a really long story." Clarke rubbed her brow, growing more uneasy by the second from this impromptu interrogation.

"I've got time," Lexa said, sitting down in Raven's desk chair. Clarke suppressed a sharp retort, wondering if Lexa was somehow oblivious to her obvious reluctance to speak about the topic.

One look at her friend's imploring gaze shut down that thought. Her eyes held a searching look, one that went quite a bit beyond general curiosity about Clarke's temporary ailment.

"Really, Lexa. It's… a bit of a personal matter," Clarke hedged, breaking off eye contact.

"What's it have to do with that Bellamy character? He seems like a real tool."

Clarke's head snapped up as she felt her gaze narrow. It was one thing to worry about a friend, but another thing entirely to start slinging insults. And there was something about the tone of Lexa's voice when she said it, a sharp accusatory edge.

"Bellamy is my best friend," Clarke said easily, "Probably the nicest guy I've ever met, actually."

Lexa scoffed, then looked bewildered when Clarke glared at her. "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously," Clarke said cooly.

Lexa shook her head as if in disbelief. "Can't say I share the opinion."

"He was having a rough morning, too," Clarke said in Bellamy's defense.

That made Lexa pause and raise a brow. Clarke stood firm, not willing to relent and make some false admission that Bellamy was actually a jackass.

"Anyway, I didn't come here to talk about boys," Lexa said, pushing herself to her feet.

"You came to give me some soup," Clarke replied.

"Yeah, soup. And I wanted to ask you out on a date."

Clarke blinked. Lexa stared at her with that weird intensity.

"A… _date_?"

"Yes, Clarke. A date. Dinner, movie, you know? Or if that's not your style we could get drinks or hell, go on a walk by the river. Whatever you want."

Clarke was taken aback, to say the least. "Well, I uh-"

"Oh, don't you dare tell me you're dating that idiot!" Lexa muttered, growing impatient.

"Bellamy? No!"

"Oh God." Lexa swiped a hand down her face. "Now you're going to tell me you're not into girls."

Clarke was floundering. A relative inexperience with dating combined with a newfound distrust of those harboring romantic interest dried her words up on her tongue.

"Well, I don't know," Clarke started. "I've never really-"

"You know what? I'm sorry." Lexa took a large step back and held up her hands. "I knew I shouldn't have asked."

"No! No, Lexa. Don't feel bad," Clarke hurried to say, feeling guilty now as Lexa was clearly wounded by her lack of a definitive response. "I'm not in a place right now to be dating _anyone, _okay?"

Lexa scoffed again before muttering under her breath, "Yeah, I'll be sure to pass that along to _Bellamy." _

Clarke pretended she didn't hear in order to avoid any more conflict. "Can we revisit this in a couple of months, maybe?"

Lexa huffed a sigh. "Sure, Clarke. Whatever you'd like."

"Thank you."

"I gotta head out." Lexa made for the door.

"Thanks for the soup!" Clarke called after her, but the door closed before Lexa replied.

Clarke stood for a moment in the silence, processing what had just happened. Had she really just been asked out on a date by Lexa? It seemed sort of… out of the blue to Clarke. Where was the build up? Where was the inkling that Lexa was even interested in her?

Clarke considered for a moment what her answer would have been if not for the events of the morning. She was still so shaken up, emotionally spent, that it just wasn't a good time for much of _anything _really.

And a relationship? That was off the table right now as far as Clarke was concerned.

But, if not for Finn, if her college year had just gone normally, would she have said yes?

Clarke chewed her lip as she realized.

No. She would have said no.

How could she date anyone with the way Bellamy was making her feel right now? 

* * *

Clarke was laughing so hard she was doubled over after another half hour talking with Harper and Octavia. She had returned to the adjoining dorm a few minutes after Lexa left, leaving it up to her friends to lighten her mood back up. Clarke had opted not to tell them about what had just transpired with Lexa, because then she would have to get into the reasons she declined her invitation, and how could she do that without talking about Finn or Bellamy? Both of them were off limits as far as Clarke was concerned.

"You can't be serious!" Harper wheezed.

"I am! I almost got expelled!"

A cough made a fourth voice known to the room. Sometime over the past minute, Raven had materialized in the doorway. All three girls glanced up at her, Clarke sobering quickly at the expression on her roommates face. Harper was still in a fit about the story Octavia had been telling them and didn't seem to notice the dark look on Raven's face.

"Oh my gosh, Raven! Octavia, you have to retell that one to Raven! She'll laugh so hard!" Harper wiped at her watery eyes.

"Maybe later," Raven said dismissively, staring at Clarke.

"C'mon! You don't want to hear how Octavia nearly killed her Spanish teacher in tenth grade?"

"I did not nearly kill him! All I did was cut open his chin," Octavia clarified.

"Yeah, later. Clarke, can I talk to you?"

Clarke felt herself chill as she slowly nodded, and stood, her legs stiff from sitting on the floor.

"I was surprised when blood came out of the cut. I was expecting gelatinous goo, that poor bastard was rounder than an overfilled jelly doughnut."

"Octavia!" Harper cackled and Octavia snorted.

Clarke closed the door behind her and followed Raven into their side of the dorm apprehensively. Raven's expression made Clarke's mind start racing with possibilities about the forthcoming conversation.

"What's wrong, Raven?"

The dark hair girl only looked stared back at Clarke for a moment, then shook her head. "What's wrong with _you, _Clarke?"

Clarke faltered. "Huh?"

"You might fool the rest of them with that '_stomach problems'_ bullshit, but I know something is going on with you." Raven crossed her arms over her chest. Despite her slender frame, she looked downright formidable. Her posture made Clarke shrink back like a struck dog.

"I-uh, don't know what you mean," Clarke stuttered, her voice light. Her pulse was racing beneath her skin and she felt like she was going to sweat through her shirt.

"Cut the crap," Raven said harshly. "I know what's going on, Clarke. Why don't you just save it and tell me straight."

How could Raven possibly know? Had Finn told her? She couldn't have possibly figured it out for herself, right?

Raven took Clarke's panicked silence as a refusal to her request and spun on her heel, flinging open her desk drawer and pulling out a plastic bag. She strode over to Clarke and shook the bag, causing it's contents to come clattering out onto the wood.

The pregnancy tests.

Clarke stared at them, scarcely able to breath.

"Clarke," Raven's voice was softer now, enticing Clarke to look up to her friend's eyes. "You should have told me."

"I- I couldn't, Raven," Clarke mumbled, feeling on the verge of tears yet again.

"I wouldn't have judged you," Raven said, opening her arms to Clarke, her hardass act clearly over. "I know you just met Bellamy a few weeks ago, but one thing leads to another and…well."

Clarke pulled back abruptly.

Raven didn't know, not about Finn at least, and Clarke didn't know if it was a good thing or a terrible thing. She felt sickeningly relieved that her secret was still safe, but if Raven had figured it out on her own, then Clarke was spared from having to tell Raven herself.

"It's okay, Clarke." Raven mistook her hesitation. "They're negative, so no need to get all worked up. I won't tell Octavia. She'll never have to know that her brother almost knocked up her roommate." Raven chuckled, but her face fell as Clarke whispered,

"It wasn't Bellamy."

"What?"

Clarke shook her head, gathering up the tests, squeezing them until her knuckles blanched.

"It wasn't Bellamy," Clarke repeated, unable to look Raven in the eye.

"Who was it then?" Raven asked like she didn't want to hear the answer.

Clarke swallowed. They stood in electric silence for a moment. She could tell Raven everything. Right now. She could get it off her chest and put this whole nightmare behind her.

"You won't tell me, will you?" Raven said tersely. Clarke didn't move. "You won't tell me, because I already know who it is. You won't tell me, but I know who will."

Clarke trembled involuntarily. Every part of her screamed to tell Raven the truth, to explain that it wasn't what she thought, that she hadn't just had casual sex with Raven's boyfriend, that she hadn't willingly participated in the act.

"Damnit Clarke!" Raven yelled, slamming her hands down on the desk. The shock of her outburst was enough to make Clarke look up and meet Raven's angonized gaze. Her eyes were tortured and her lips were curled back like a feral cat, her white teeth gleaming. Something about fresh anguish dehumanized people, made them more like animals who felt only in the abstract of emotion.

"You don't even have the decency to tell me," Raven scoffed, rising up to her full height, making Clarke duck her head away.

"Unbelievable," Raven muttered.

For one more heart wrenching moment, Raven glared at Clarke with such unrestrained disgust and fury that Clarke nearly cried out.

"It's not like that-" Clarke fumbled desperately.

Raven threw up her hands, wordlessly cutting Clarke off before she whipped around and slammed the door behind her. The reverberation echoed throughout the room as Clarke slid to the floor.

Her mind was blank as she stared at a string coming loose from Raven's quilt, wavering slightly in the airflow from the vent in the wall. A sick feeling twisted in Clarke's stomach, winding up and constricting her lungs until she felt like she could hardly inhale.

Had she just ruined her friendship with Raven?

One thought shoved it's way to the surface of her muddled mind; if Raven went and confronted Finn, what would Finn say?

Would Finn hurt Raven?

**AN_**

**Okay, please don't kill me, but I promise (spoiler alert) that Clarke tells Raven in the next chapter. I just didn't want to combine this chapter with the next one or I think it would be a bit overwhelming. **

**Anyhow****, how is everyone? It's already September, which is CRAZY. Summer flew by this year, which is so weird because basically all I did the past three months was work. I started online college last week, and it's been an adjustment for sure. I wish everyone who is in school the best of luck, and I hope you can make the most out of whatever your school year is going to look like. **

**Stay safe and healthy, and, as always, thanks for reading!**

**-Birch66724**


	30. Chapter 30

The past twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind of football, alcohol, visits to CVS, and pregnancy scares, and all Bellamy really wanted to do was sleep off his hangover and mentally and emotionally recharge.

Instead, he was leaning lazily against the wall in Miller and Murphy's dorm, snacking on some chips and watching them bicker like brothers over their video game.

Their dorm felt a lot more like a teenage boy's room than Bellamy's did, with the sports calendars and band posters interspersed with pinup girls lining the walls. They'd hung a U of M logo blanket over the window, so what little light that did filter through was a hazy maroon color. Along the edge of a ceiling hung an LED rope light that added a glowing blue hue to the room. Bellamy wondered how they ever got any homework done with the confusing combination of mixed light, which made him feel like he was looking through a pair of 3-D goggles.

The answer was obvious: they didn't.

"Aww, c'mon! I didn't even see that guy there!" Miller said, exasperated, as his character exploded into a puff of smoke.

"It was lag," Murphy said flatly.

"Was not! I just got this console, there's no lag."

"Well, then you just suck."

"Shut up," Miller muttered, tossing his controller onto the bed as Murphy continued playing.

"You're up, Boss." Miller nodded at Bellamy while he snatched the chips away from him.

Bellamy groaned, "I told you already, man. I dunno how to play,"

Miller scoffed, noisily crunching on his snack. "That's the point. You'll be terrible, so it'll be fun to watch Murphy get all pissed when you die instantly."

"I'll only get pissed because I _always _carry the team," Murphy objected, his eyes wide as he mashed the buttons on the controller, muttering curses under his breath as he shot at the opposing team.

"You wish. You wouldn't even have unlocked multiplayer mode without me!" Miller shot back.

The continued arguing while Miller showed Bellamy the controls, explaining all about how to pull up a scope and drop into a crouch, but Bellamy wasn't paying too close of attention.

He hadn't played video games since he was in high school, and it looked nothing like this. It had been Grand Theft Auto on his friend's PlayStation 2. The graphics had been terribly grainy and choppy, and they had to look up cheat codes on the library computers and write them down in the back of their geometry notebooks.

This game that Miller had was so realistic, it barely looked like a game. It was almost gruesome how accurate all of the weapons looked and it turned Bellamy off. If he was going to spend time playing games, he'd rather drive around in a pixelated red BMW 3 Cabrio and try to outrun fake police officers.

Murphy's character died and he let out a stream of profanity, far too invested in the game in Bellamy's opinion. It sort of highlighted the divide between Bellamy and his new friends, that they were more trivial than he was, but that was probably a good thing. They hadn't been forced to grow up as fast as he had, and they actually got to enjoying being teenagers.

"Get down here," Murphy said, reaching back and whacking Bellamy in the leg.

Bellamy sat and listened to him spew a bunch of directions while fiddling with the knobs on his controller. His thumbs were too long to rest comfortably on the joysticks, so they were bent at an odd angle. He got distracted when his phone chimed, turning to look over his shoulder.

"You've got to jump out!" Murphy yelled, jambing a button on Bellamy's controller, drawing him back to the game.

Miller snickered. "See? I told you this would be fun."

Bellamy struggled to get his character to run while Murphy had already killed two other people, all the while grumbling under his breath. It didn't make Bellamy feel badly, because he couldn't care less whether or not he excelled at this game. All it did for him was cement the fact that he'd rather be asleep right now.

"Dude, you really suck at this. You're even worse than Miller."

Miller slapped Murphy in the back of the head, but Murphy only laughed. Bellamy's phone chimed again, but he didn't dare reach around to grab it from the bed behind him. Instead, he picked a gun that Murphy had dropped at his feet and attempted to run after his teammate.

After a third notification sound, Bellamy grew uneasy. A fourth, and he was concerned.

"What are you doing!" Murphy cried as Bellamy set down the controller and reached around to snag his phone.

"Gotta see who's texting me."

"Wait three minutes!" Murphy pushed the controller back into Bellamy's hands as the television seemed to explode with gunshots. "Get behind cover, Bellamy! Ah, all your health is draining!"

Overwhelmed, he tried to get his character to limp into the open doorway, but it was too late; the little soldier wisped away as a tendril of red smoke. "Whoops," he muttered, unconcerned.

Murphy started ranting, the sound of the television still several notches too loud, making Bellamy feel like he really was in the middle of a battlefield. Even the sounds of the game were spookily accurate; the crunch of the character's footsteps, the echoing of gunshots in the distance. The screen even shook when something exploded nearby.

It wasn't until Murphy died too, and the sound faded, that they could hear the desperate pounding at the door. Bellamy shot to his feet, pent up anxiety flooding over as he yanked the door open so abruptly it was a wonder it didn't fly off its hinges.

Clarke all but fell into his arms.

"Clarke?" He asked, at the same time she breathed, "Bellamy."

"What are you doing here? What's wrong?" He held her by the forearms, ducking to look into her face.

Clarke struggled to take a breath, pulling away. Bellamy glanced over his shoulder to where Miller and Murphy were staring at them like a pair of meerkats. Bellamy walked into the hall and closed the door behind them, ushering Clarke out of their nosy gazes.

"Clarke? Tell me what's wrong," Bellamy urged.

"Raven," Clarke managed before taking a shaky breath. "I need to go find her, but I don't know how to get there," she said, the question in her eyes.

Bellamy nodded. "Where is she?"

"St. Thomas. She went to go find Finn."

Bellamy frowned. "Why?"

Clarke shook her head, dropping her eyes. "I just- how far is it?"

"Uh, like five miles probably. Did Raven walk there?"

Clarke shook her head. "No, she's got that rattletrap Jeep, remember?"

Bellamy didn't remember, but he agreed anyway. "Yeah, uh, I don't have a car, but-"

"Is everything alright?" Miller opened the door. He at least looked concerned while Murphy just stood with his arms crossed, frowning.

"Yeah…" Clarke stepped away from Bellamy. "Do you have a car?"

Miller blinked. "I have a van..."

"Could I maybe borrow it? I just need to go over to St. Thomas University," Clarke pleaded.

Miller looked up at Bellamy, then back at Clarke. "Sure. That's not too far. Want me to drive you over there?"

"No, no. We're good. Bellamy'll drive," Clarke said quickly, nodding her appreciation as she followed him back into the room. "Thank you so much. I owe you a huge favor, Miller."

"It's no problem," he said. Bellamy stayed in the hall, apprehensive but willing to help Clarke. She didn't seem like the type of person to ask for favors very often, so it must have been terribly important to find Raven. He had to find out what was going on.

"Thank you!" Clarke said emphatically, catching the keys Miller tossed her.

"It's the silver Honda Odyssey, the one with the rusted wheel wells."

"Got it." Clarke clutched the keys to her chest, all but running out into the hallway.

Miller gave Bellamy a curious look, and he shook his head.

"You got a license?"

"Yep." He did have a license, but perhaps the better question to have asked was, '_Was his license valid? _That was up for debate…

"Okay man," Miller said as Clarke paused at the end of the hall, waiting for Bellamy. "Is she alright?"

"I hope so," Bellamy said, jogging after bouncing blond curls that disappeared around the corner.

He didn't catch up to Clarke until she was halfway down the row of student parking, scanning the vehicles for the van that Miller described. Bellamy found it first and pointed it out, unlocking it as the tail lights flashed. Clarke hurried into the passenger seat while Bellamy slid behind the wheel. He waited until he had adjusted the seat to accommodate his longer legs before he questioned Clarke.

"So, I hate to make you retell it, but I have to know what's going on, Princess."

"I know, I was getting there," Clarke said softly. Bellamy eased the van out of the parking stall, marvelling at how clean Miller kept the vehicle. The windows practically sparkled in the sunlight and there was not one speck of dirt on the floor mats. It was probably his prized possession, after his PlayStation, of course.

"It never ends with me," Clarke said darkly as they pulled out onto the street.

Bellamy had no response, so he pretended to adjust the mirrors.

"Raven, well, I guess she went through the trash, and confronted me with the tests."

"What? Why the hell would she do that?" Bellamy said in disbelief.

"I- I think she was trying to get me to confess," Clarke murmured.

Bellamy spared a glance at her, but she was looking out the window. "Confess to what?"

"She asked me if it was you, you know, if _you_ were the reason I thought I was pregnant, but I said no. And then… Oh Bellamy, I couldn't say it. She asked if it was Finn, and I just froze. I should have told her then, I know I should have, but I-"

"Shh, Clarke," Bellamy tried to soothe her as he pulled up at a red light. "Now she's going to confront Finn because she thinks that he cheated on her with you?"

Clarke nodded. "I should have stopped her...what's he going to do to her?"

Bellamy accelerated away from the intersection too abruptly and the engine protested.

"Clarke, don't say that. If you couldn't say it, you couldn't say it and that's that."

"I should have been able to!" Clarke cried. Bellamy cringed. They drove several blocks in quiet before Bellamy spoke up again, needing to know what they were about to walk into.

"Do you think Finn would hurt Raven? I mean, is he violent?"

"I don't know," Clarke said dejectedly. "He isn't _not _violent."

That was unsettling to say the least. Bellamy had never really met Finn, except for the brief moment in passing in the frat house. If Bellamy had known then, that Finn was the reason Clarke was in the state she was in, it would not have been a pretty sight. He clutched the steering wheel so tight his fingers started to ache as they neared the St. Thomas campus. Bellamy didn't know if he could see that bastard now without beating the shit out of him.

"Do you have any clue where Raven is?" Bellamy asked, slowing the van.

"No."

Bellamy inwardly sighed. "Let's start looking for her Jeep then. What color is it?"

"Black. It's got tons of bumper stickers on the tire thingy on the back."

Bellamy turned into a lot and started perusing the rows of vehicles. Clarke impatiently pressed her forehead to the passenger window.

"I wish I knew where she was. I mean, what kind of friend am I? I can't even be honest with her, and now she's probably in trouble because of me," Clarke snarled to herself. It was probably just a manifestation of her current frustration, but It still made Bellamy want to reach out and shake Clarke's shoulders so she would stop thinking such foolish things. She was a _great _friend to Raven, because all along, she had been trying to protect her. Maybe her actions were not always the optimal ones, but she had her heart in the right place.

Clarke slumped back into her seat after no luck in the first lot. "What about over there?" she pointed. "Those look like residence halls."

Bellamy eased the car across the road and into the adjacent lot, restarting their scanning. They snaked through two rows without luck, but suddenly, Clarke's eyes weren't on the cars.

"There she is!" Clarke cried, leaning across the dash as Bellamy pressed the accelerator, definitely breaking the 10 MPH posted speed limit.

He eased the car along the curb to where a hunched girl was walking quickly, her head down. Bellamy didn't even recognise Raven at first, and was amazed that Clarke had.

Raven didn't seem to notice the conspicuous van tailing her until Clarke opened the door and stepped out of the still moving vehicle.

"Christ, Clarke!" Bellamy stamped on the brake pedal as Clarke found her feet, ignoring him.

"Raven!" She cried, her voice much stronger than it had been a few minutes ago.

Raven didn't turn, but Clarke jogged towards her, calling her name. Bellamy anxiously followed them, the passenger door of the van still hanging open. He wanted to get out and go with Clarke, but he couldn't very well leave the stupid van right there in the middle of the parking lot.

Clarke caught up to Raven and grabbed her shoulder. Bellamy stopped the car twenty feet behind them when they paused. Nothing happened for a moment, then Raven whirled around and smacked Clarke straight across the face.

Bellamy blinked in disbelief as Clarke staggered a few steps backwards, but held her ground, holding out her hands to Raven. Raven stood up tall, shifting her dark hair away from her face, and Bellamy could see bright red blood like a warning beacon on her tan face. She snarled at Clarke before covering her face with her hands, collapsing in on herself.

Bellamy didn't even have a chance to take his seatbelt off to go to Clarke's aid before Clarke was clutching a trembling Raven, wrapping her up and hugging her to her chest, smoothing one hand down her hair.

Clarke held her roommate as Raven dissolved into her. The twisted irony of the situation was not lost on Bellamy. It was Raven who should be comforting Clarke, not the other way around.

After a minute or two, Clarke turned around, meeting Bellamy's eyes. She gave him a soft smile and nodded at him. Bellamy pulled the van up to the curb before slowly getting out and walking over to the girls, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

For a moment, all he could hear was Raven's muffled sniffling and Clarke's soothing murmurs. It was an interesting change of pace to watch Clarke in the supporting role instead of the supported. Bellamy marveled at her heart, that she would stand there and help Raven after the girl just struck her, for nothing. Speaking of that, Bellamy grazed his fingers along Clarke's cheekbone, which was tender and inflamed. Clarke grimaced but she just looked sad, not angry or revengeful.

"Want to head home, Raven?" Clarke asked gently, disentangling her arms from the girl. Raven slowly righted herself, bringing her hand to her face as she did so.

Even with her hair partially obscuring her face, Bellamy could see the river of blood still running crimson from Raven's nose, painting her lips and chin like a horribly telling canvas, recounting how her conversation with Finn had gone.

"How'd I know you'd be here too, Blake?" Raven teased with dry humor, her voice thick.

Bellamy smiled and shrugged, his eyes drawn to the already forming black eye adorning Raven's face as well. He struggled to suppress his growing rage as he helped her to the van.

"What about my Jeep?" Raven asked.

"I'll walk down and pick it up later," Bellamy offered and Raven nodded.

Clarke pinched the bridge of Raven's nose and Bellamy rummaged through the glove box, coming up empty handed on his search for napkins.

"There's a gas station on the next block," Raven said, her voice nasally as Clarke still firmly held her nostrils shut.

Bellamy nodded, sparing one more glance back at Clarke and Raven in the backseat. Clarke's brows were drawn as she inspected Raven no-nonsensically, methodically cataloging her injuries. Her Oregon Ducks crewneck was bloodstained and her cheekbone was already bruising. She looked pretty badass, to be honest.

It was safe to say she sort of amazed Bellamy.

He drove the car carefully forward, double checking the surroundings before he shifted into gear

"Sorry I hit you," Raven croaked.

"Don't worry about it. I probably deserved it," Clarke chuckled.

"You definitely didn't," Raven said, and Bellamy silently agreed.

Clarke took a moment before she responded. "I should have told you from the beginning."

"Probably. But I understand. I get it now, why Finn would have cheated on me. He's really changed since coming to college. He got a job at that sleazy bar downtown, The Eligus. He's been hanging out with his asshole boss a lot, McCreary. I think the guy is some kind of drug distributor or something."

Bellamy stiffened as he pulled into the farthest parking stall from the gas station, not wanting to attract any unwanted observers. They were tucked in the corner by a tall wooden fence covered in creeping vines.

"Is that what Finn told you, Raven?"

"Yeah, he told me about the McCreary guy. I think his girlfriend cooks the stuff or something. Real lowlifes, and Finn fell in with the wrong crowd." Raven's voice was thick from the blood running down the back of her throat, and her head was tilted forward to stave the bleeding, so she couldn't see Clarke's face.

Bellamy glanced back as she went ashen faced, except the raised bruise on her cheekbone. She met his eyes with a heavy look, and Bellamy tightened his hands into fists, so utterly infuriated at the audacity of Finn.

"What?" Raven asked, lifting her head. Clarke didn't try to stop her, and the blood started to flow in earnest again, snaking onto Clarke's pale skin in a scarlet river. Raven glanced between Bellamy and Clarke, growing agaited the longer they stayed silent. Clarke's eyes were fixed firmly on the droplets of blood landing on the impeccably clean floor mats. Drip. Drip. Drip.

"What aren't you telling me? Clarke?"

Clarke swallowed and her long lashes fluttered against her cheeks as she raised her head and looked into Raven's eyes.

In a firm, even voice that made Bellamy simultaneously freeze and ignite with rage, she said, "Finn raped me. He drugged me and then he raped me."

* * *

The words left Clarke's lips and the first thing she felt was an overwhelming sense of relief. It was like a weight lifted from her shoulders and she was unburdened the second she admitted to the assault.

Even as misunderstanding flashed in Raven's dark eyes and her blood ran cerise rivlets down Clarke's forearm, while Bellamy sat in the driver's seat, wound tighter than a ten day clock, relief came washing over Clarke like a tidal wave.

"Go get the napkins, Bellamy," Clarke quietly commanded, breaking the heavy stillness inside the van. "I'd hate to have this blood dry on Miller's floor mats."

No one moved for a second. Clarke had to look away from Raven to spur Bellamy into action.

"Right," he murmured. The slamming of the door as Bellamy left seemed to snap Raven out of her shock.

"He…" Her gaze darkened as she looked at Clarke. It was like watching the pieces of a puzzle fall into place in Raven's mind as she thought about things. Clarke waited patiently, feeling like she had all the time in the world now.

"Oh God…" Raven whispered. "When he said- oh my God. Clarke, I- I don't know what to say. I can't believe it. Shit, I'm such an idiot. I _knew _something was going on with you, and I didn't even ask. I just teased you about Bellamy-" Raven's face fell with shame.

"It's not your fault, Raven," Clarke said.

"The pregnancy tests!" she cried. "They were all negative, right?"

Clarke nodded.

"Thank God. I can't even believe- actually, you know what? I _can _believe it. Finn had changed so much, I was too blind to see it. I am so sorry, Clarke."

The more Raven talked, the more her nose bled. Thankfully, Bellamy was jogging back across the parking lot. Clarke gave Raven a soft smile and slid open the heavy back door of the van.

"Here." Bellamy handed over a large wad of brown napkins and a bottle of water, fretting by the door as Clarke thanked him and started to wipe the blood from Raven's face. Together, they cleaned themselves and the floor of Miller's van from blood and plugged Raven's nose with twisted napkins. Clarke's sweatshirt was beyond help from a couple of paper napkins, probably destined for the trash. Oh well.

"He didn't hurt you anywhere else, did he?" Clarke asked, frowning at Raven's darkening eye.

She shook her head, then looped her arms around Clarke, hugging her close.

"Thank you, Clarke. And I am so, _so sorry_."

"You're welcome."

"Clarke?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Clarke smiled and pulled back. "I love you, too, Raven."

Raven sniffled, but her nostrils were plugged, and wiped at her eyes. "Thank you too, Bellamy, for driving the getaway car."

"Of course."

"And for taking care of Clarke. Oh God, I'm so sorry I teased you two." Raven hid her face in the crook of her elbow.

"You didn't know, Raven." Clarke said, turning to Bellamy. He smiled at her, his expression still soft even though she could see the storm brewing behind his dark irises. Clarke reached out and he hugged her, burying his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. It felt so good to have him right there, squeezing her so tight it almost hurt her ribs.

"Unless maybe I need to tease you?" Raven hinted, prodding Clarke in the side.

"Piss off." Clarke pulled free of Bellamy and stuck her tongue out at her friend. Raven only smirked, looking like a goof with the napkins jammed up her nose. "We'd better get home and get some ice on your eye."

"Yours too," Bellamy added to Clarke.

"Yeah, sorry about that, too," Raven cringed.

"It happens," Clarke shrugged, stepping out of the back seat and extending her leg, which had been folded under her at an awkward angle.

As she shook out her limb, a car came screeching into the convenience store's lot, practically on two wheels as it whipped off the road. Clarke was frozen as it came barreling towards them, showing little sign of slowing down until the very last second, when the driver slammed on the brakes and the hideous squeal of rubber on cement echoed throughout the lot.

Engine still running, and the driver's side door swung open. Raven cursed and clamored out of the van and Bellamy took a protective step in front of Clarke. She didn't need to see the driver to know who it was.

"What are you doing here, Finn?" Raven spat. Clarke put a hand on Bellamy's back as his hands balled into fists, stepping around him so she could see the offender.

His shaggy hair hung around his face like an unkempt dog and his face was unshaven. He looked pretty worse for the wear as he leaned over the car door, using it like a shield as he glared at all three of them before settling on Raven.

"C'mon babe. I didn't mean what I said. Come back with me, we need to work this out," he said.

Raven glared daggers at him. "Like hell I will," she snarled. "Why'd you lie to me?"

Finn pretended to look taken aback. "Lie to you? About what? I've never lied to you in my life."

Raven snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. Clarke felt the air crackle with energy, like there was a lightning storm rolling in. Bellamy was practically vibrating beneath her hand with pent up aggression, and it honestly frightened Clarke how dark his expression had become.

"Oh, don't do this, Raven!" Finn whined, leaning over the door of his car like it was restraining him from reaching out to the girl. Raven's glare only hardened.

"Don't make like out like you're the victim! I wasn't thinking straight, I didn't even mean to hit you, babe."

It was Bellamy's turn to scoff then. Finn's eyes were on him like a magnet, sizing him up.

"Who the fuck are you?" Finn said arrogantly, seemingly unintimidated by Bellamy. Clarke couldn't see how, as she was almost scared of the man beside her, even though she knew he would never hurt her. "Oh wait! I recognise you! You're that dude from the party!" Finn nodded exaggeratedly like he was meeting an old friend.

"That'd be me," Bellamy said stiffly.

"And Clarke, don't think I can't see you hiding back there!" Finn called out, leaning out over the door to glimpse Clarke. Even though having his eyes on her made her skin crawl, Clarke didn't retreat. Instead she mirrored Raven's icy glare. Together they stood as a unified front and Finn faltered, his arrogance slipping.

"Tough crowd, huh? Anyway, I got shit to do, so come on Raven, let's go."

"Fat chance," Raven muttered.

"Oh?" Finn cocked a brow. "What's gotten into you? I thought you said you'd forgive me if I told you the truth?"

"Yeah, I did say that. But you didn't keep your end of the bargain."

"Didn't I?" Finn scratched his chin. "I was open and honest about the _affair _I had with your friend Clarke there."

Clarke tried not to shiver.

Raven laughed sardonically. "Yeah, I don't think it's called an _affair _if only one of the participants is willing."

Finn frowned. "Are you accusing me of something?"

"What if I was?"

Clarke felt like she could hardly breath and Bellamy tensed up like a tiger about to pounce.

This confrontation was about to spin out of control and Clarke didn't know if she had the power to stop it.

"You should ask Clarke," Finn said snidely, locking eyes with her. Clarke couldn't look away as all the memories came rushing in. "Ask her to tell you about how she practically _begged _me to-"

"Shut the fuck up," Bellamy interrupted, his voice as cold and heavy as ice. He didn't have to yell to command attention, the sheer ferocity of his voice was enough to stop Finn dead in his tracks.

"Excuse me?"

"You and I both know what you did to Clarke that night. We both know she wanted no part in that."

Finn seemed to consider that. "See, I seem to have a different memory of that night. I remember Clarke cornering me in that bedroom, already half undressed, asking me to-"

Finn shut his mouth real fast when Bellamy strode across the cement, one arm drawn back, ready to knock his lights out.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, big man," Finn said lightly. Something about his tone made Bellamy pause a foot from him and Clarke's blood run cold.

"And why's that?"

Finn's response was to pull a glinting pistol from his waistband, tossing it from hand to hand as if it were a tennis ball, testing its weight. The gleam in his eye was sickening as he turned a smug expression on Bellamy.

The sunlight sparkled on the muzzle of the weapon, taunting them.

Clarke's heart was racing so fast she wouldn't have been surprised if it exploded in her chest. The situation had escalated, now to a potentially lethal level. Never had Clarke seen a handgun in real life before, much less been on the wrong end of the barrel.

Her legs strained to run to Bellamy, but liquid fear kept her rooted to the spot, watching Finn fiddle with the trigger guard.

Bellamy lowered his arm, but didn't retreat.

Time seemed to slow to a standstill as they stared at each other.

"Where did you get that, Finn?" Raven finally asked.

"Unimportant," Finn dismissed her question with a wave of the gun. He held it so easily, so carelessly. The worst person to have a gun in their hand was someone who didn't respect or understand the power of the weapon. Finn clearly didn't, and although he seemed to be putting on a show with how comfortably he was handling the weapon, Clarke wondered if he'd ever even fired it.

"Now, Bellamy, you're going to step back, and Raven, you're going to come with me," he said.

"Like hell she is," Bellamy said.

"Oh? Would you rather Clarke came back with me?" Finn teased. "We can see just how she feels about me behind _closed doors," _he leered, looking directly at Clarke. Bellamy stepped between them, breaking the connection.

"No one is going with you, Finn, so get back into your car, and go back to wherever the hell you came from."

"Hmm, I think I like my idea better. Let's go Raven!" Finn yelled, Clarke spared a glance at Raven, who was standing rigidly beside her, Raven flickered a glance at Clarke and gave her a tight lipped smile before stepping towards Finn's car.

He grinned with satisfaction. The gun he was tossing around clearly gave him the upperhand, but that was his only leverage.

As Raven neared Finn, Bellamy reached out a hand and grabbed her, tugging her back behind him. Clarke's stomach leapt into her throat as Finn tisked, scowling.

"Shouldn't've done that, big man," he said disapprovingly. "Must I treat you like a child? Hand over what's mine by the count of three and I won't have any reason to use this." He shook the handgun.

Clarke could only see Bellamy's ridgid back, but he showed no sign of moving, clutching Raven's forearm so tightly it must have hurt her.

"One."

Clarke couldn't breath.

"Two."

Finn clicked the safety off the gun, settling the backstrap against the heel of his hand and slipping his pointer finger under the trigger guard. The rest of his fingers curled around the grip like the twisted talons of a hawk.

Clarke broke free of the fear grounding her.

"No, don't shoot him!" she cried, lurching forward to grab onto Bellamy.

Finn snorted. "Get out of the way Clarke, or I'll shoot both of you."

Clarke defiantly glared at him as Raven twisted free of Bellamy's grasp.

"Enough of this! Just keep yourselves safe!" She urged Bellamy and Clarke. "I'll just go with him."

"That's right, Raven. You know you'd be lost without me," he cooed disgustingly.

Clarke linked her arm through Bellamy's. He was so tense he felt like a wall of solid brick. Raven swallowed once and stepped past Bellamy. Finn opened the rear door without turning his back on Bellamy. Clarke was terrified on behalf of Raven. What would Finn do to her once she was alone? The possibilities were unthinkable.

"In ya go!" He said brightly, putting a hand on Raven's back to guide her into the car, as if she couldn't do it alone.

The gun discharged with a resounding _boom _that shook Clarke to her core.

For a fraction of a second that felt like years, the air froze. No one moved. No one breathed. The silence following the reverberation of the shot was what Clarke imagined outer space sounded like; so impossibly quiet, she could hear the blood pulsing through her own veins.

Then, Raven's strangled cry shattered the silence like a pane of glass and she crumpled to the ground, blood spouting from her lower back.

Finn leapt away from her, the gun falling from his hand and clattering on the ground. He stared at it like it had betrayed him, all his previous bravado gone. His entire persona had shifted in an instant, and he looked like a scared child.

Bellamy took no time to process the situation. He leapt forward, kicking the gun out of Finn's reach and tackling him to the ground. Finn was too stunned to react as his head struck the cement with a sickening crack that pulled Clarke from her bubble.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Bellamy growled, pinning Finn to the ground with a hand on either shoulder. He pressed his knees into Finn's arms, rendering him immobil.

Raven gave another gasping cry and Clarke went to her, cradling her away from where she was slumped against the car.

"He didn't tell me it was loaded!"

"What?"

"He never even showed me how to use it! I mean, he just gave it to me! I had no idea what I was doing!"

"That much was obvious!" Bellamy yelled over the rising sound of sirens. Someone from the convenience store must have called the police.

"He said to just flash it around! Show it off and no one would mess with me! I thought it was empty." Finn's high-pitched voice bordered on hysterical as he struggled under Bellamy's superior strength.

"Raven?" Clarke lowered her friend to the ground, trying to get her to lay still so as to not cause more damage. "Raven? Look at me!" Clarke commanded, trying to cushion Raven's head from the unforgiving asphalt as she writhed around, groaning and gasping. The bullet had gone into the center of her lower back. There were countless important organs and vessels and nerves running through the area, not to mention the spine. If the bullet hit her spine…

"Gah!" Raven howled and Clarke tried to soothe her, but how do you comfort someone who just got shot?

Then, the unmistakable, stomach-turning sound of a fist landing a blow was accompanying Raven's agonized moans, like some sort of repulsive orchestra.

"Bellamy!" Clarke shrieked as he pounded his fists into Finn's face. The boy was clearly already unconscious and blood poured from his nose and mouth. "Bellamy!"

He couldn't hear her though, whether because of the wail of the approaching sirens or because of the haze of red clouding his vision, Clarke didn't know. She was so wildly out of her element, so overwhelmed. How had this gotten so out of control? When had it shifted from a disagreement to lethal confrontation?

"Bellamy! Stop!" Clarke screamed. He was going to kill Finn if he didn't stop.

Raven moaned, gripping at Clarke when she tried to leave her side to go pull Bellamy off.

It felt like Clarke was watching the whole world from underwater. Every sound was amplified and every action was slowed. Police cars poured into the lot, screeching to a halt the same way Finn had done.

Clarke watched in horror as two officers hauled Bellamy off of Finn, slamming him against the side of the patrol car. They restrained him with handcuffs and it was only then that Bellamy seemed to realize what he had done. His mouth dropped open and his body slackened, slouching against the gleaming black vehicle. He stopped resisting the officers as they forced him into the back of the car, and he disappeared from Clarke's view behind the tinted glass.

That wasn't the man she knew though. He had been overcome by something… something so unlike himself it chilled Clarke almost as much as Finn had.

Now Finn lay, motionless, as a pool of blood swelled around him, staining the cement.

Raven's writhing and crying was diminishing as Clarke returned her attention to her friend. Her eyes were wide and her mouth open in an O, but her gaze wasn't here. She was looking to some far off place, hopefully somewhere where the pain of reality was lessened.

"Raven? Look at me!" Clarke pleaded, cupping her face. "The ambulance is here! It's okay Raven. It's okay…"

Raven's grip was still so tight on Clarke's arm that her fingernails were drawing blood, but Clarke couldn't feel any pain. She was numbed by the last few minutes. It felt hard to believe that everything had just transpired had happened in the span of a few minutes. It felt like it added years to Clarke's life.

"Ma'am, what happened here?" An officer helped Clarke to her feet as paramedics surrounded Raven. Their hands stayed clasped together though, Raven' grip was as solid as iron.

"I-" Clarke started, shaking her head. She found herself glancing over her shoulder to the squad car that contained Bellamy. Even though she couldn't see him, she knew he would be looking at her. It calmed her a little bit, so she stared at the inky black window and the myriad of reflected red and blue lights it held.

"Miss?" the officer said, "I'm Officer Emerson, what's your name?"

"Clarke Griffin," she managed, taking a steadying breath.

"Alright, Miss Griffin. Are you injured?" Officer Emerson turned a critical eye on her. Clarke glanced down at herself. She had a large bloodstain on her shoulder, and both of her arms had spatters and trails of deep crimson on them.

"No, I don't think any of it's mine," Clarke clarified.

"Okay. Who is this?" He nodded to Raven as a paramedic fitted a C-collar around her neck.

"Raven Reyes. She's my roommate."

"Are you in college?"

"Yes, at the University of Minnesota."

"Okay. That's good. What are you studying?" Officer Emerson asked and he scribbled something down, half listening to Clarke's reply.

"I'm pre-med."

"Nice. Alright. Do you know who that is?" He gestured to Finn, who was also being worked on by another pair of paramedics. Clarke cringed at his mutilated face, even if she hated him, he was in rough shape after what Bellamy did to him…

"Finn," Clarke said, seeking out Bellamy in the car again. Raven's nail dug into Clarke's wrist once again as she cried out when they fit a cervical collar around her neck.

"Do you know his last name?"

Clarke frowned, racking her brain. She honestly didn't, so she shook her head.

"And the guy who was beatin' on him? Do you know who he is?"

"Yes. That's Bellamy Blake." Clarke nodded.

"And what's your relation to him?"

"Uh, he's my friend." That almost didn't seem like a big enough word to encompass everything that Bellamy was to her.

Emerson nodded again before turning his head to the side to speak into his hand-held radio, spouting off a series of codes that made Clarke's mind spin.

"10-4, we'll be there shortly," Emerson finished, turning back to Clarke. He seemed like he was good at his job; clear and concise, focused on the task at hand and not distracted by the carnage laying at his feet. He had a job to do and he was going to do it well.

"Miss Griffin, we'd like to speak with you back at the station about-"

Raven cried out, interrupting Officer Emerson and drawing Clarke's attention back to her. The paramedics slid a stabilizing board beneath her, jostling her roughly.

Clarke wanted to lash out at them, but her words dried up in her throat as she crouched at Raven's side, running a clammy hand down her face, smoothing her black hair back.

"We need to get her on the gurney. Radio in, tell them we've got a GSW to the lumbar region, with partial paralysis of the left leg from the hip down, and possible internal bleeding."

"What? Paralysis?" Clarke gaped at the man as he barked the order at a younger woman, who nodded curtly and hurried to the cab of the ambulance.

The paramedic ignored Clarke, instead he clamped Raven's resistant arm down under one knee, swabbed the back of her hand, and expertly inserted an intravenous catheter into her vein. He had the needle taped in place two seconds later, all without a drop of blood spilled.

The fact that Clarke took pause from her crazy surroundings long enough to be in awe of his skills was testament to how good he was.

The other paramedic returned and together, they hoisted Raven onto a gurney. Clarke remained right at her side, feeling utterly useless as Raven writhed on the cot, still struggling as they secured safety belts around her chest and legs, mindful of her injury.

"It's okay, Raven. We're going to the hospital, it'll be fine," Clarke said, unconvinced of her own words, as they raised the gurney up so they could slide it into the back of the ambulance.

"Miss Griffin," Officer Emerson interrupted. "We need to take you to the station, so we can get a better understanding about what happened here, alright?"

Clarke turned a glare on him. "I need to go with Raven. Can't this wait?"

"No, the sooner we get your testament the sooner we-"

"That _can _wait, Emerson." The male paramedic took up Clarke's defense. "You have the suspect in custody-"

"Suspect?" Clarke cried, alarmed. "Bellamy isn't the _suspect! Finn's _the one that shot Raven!"

"We need to get moving. She can talk later, right now, this girl needs immediate medical attention."

The paramedics loaded Raven into the ambulance and Clarke clamored in after her, looking back at the fuming officer. He looked royally pissed, but he stood silently, working his jaw as the ambulance door swung shut. Clarke snuck one more regretful glance back at the squad car that contained Bellamy. Hopefully he would be alright, and as soon as Raven was safe, she could help get this mess sorted. Bellamy wasn't the criminal, but he was the one on the way to the police station.

**AN_**

**Hi. :) I hope that lived up to everyone's expectations, but that it was also unexpected. The truth finally came out! I struggled for awhile on deciding how to write this chapter, but in the end I am satisfied with it. That being said, this marks the climax of the story. It's not ****finished**** as I am posting this chapter, but I think there will be between 40-42 chapters total. Thank for everyone who has read this far, it means the world to me.**

**Not much else to say, just have a great weekend! Oh, and the NFL season started today. Sadly, the Gophers won't be playing this fall, but the are talking about a possible spring season. I'm still holding out hope of making it to a game at some point. **

**Thanks for reading, **

**-Birch66724**


	31. Chapter 31

Somehow, the metal handcuffs still felt ice cold, despite being clamped tightly around Bellamy's wrists and wedged between his back and the scratchy fabric of the backseat of the police car.

The bite of his restraints were all Bellamy could focus on as the blue and red flashing lights played over his blood spattered clothes. He sat slumped up against the window, straining to see Clarke and Raven, and trying not to see Finn.

It made bile rise in his throat, thinking about what he had done. Something had come over him, like an opaque impenetrable fog descended and all he could do was hit that useless excuse of a person. He hadn't been in control, and he knew it was his fault. It was his fault that he hadn't kept calm. He should have been able to stop Finn, to prevent Raven from being shot.

Was Raven okay?

Bellamy pressed his forehead to the bars covering the window more desperately now, fogging up the dirty glass with his heavy exhales. He could see Clarke's blond head bobbing like a bird on a windswept lake amid a slew of men in uniform and another set of paramedics. She was the only bright spot in a monochromatic world.

Bellamy cursed as a gurney was brought out of an ambulance for Finn, blocking his view. He strained against the handcuffs, relishing this time in the pain of the metal against his skin. It didn't really hurt all that bad, compared to his throbbing knuckles. He couldn't have formed a fist now if his life depended on it, and was nearly certain he broke his left pinky as it throbbed with a pulse all it's own.

He was the one who should have the paramedics fawning over him! Finn was the criminal, and he was being treated like a martyr while Bellamy was locked up.

Even as the thoughts coursed through Bellamy's head, he knew he was wrong. He turned away, unable to look at Finn as they rolled him onto the stretcher. One glimpse of his bloodstained face was enough to send guilt washing through Bellamy.

Even if Finn was the lowest of the low, Bellamy shouldn't have beat him practically to the brink of death. It hadn't even felt good at the moment. Bellamy would be lying if he said he hadn't fantasized about his fist colliding with Finn's face, but he was just so enraged, the relief that usually followed punching someone hadn't come. All he could hear was Clarke's strangled cries, screaming at him to stop, begging him.

But he hadn't stopped.

He _couldn't _stop.

They'd had to pull him off of Finn, yanking him up roughly like he was some common criminal.

He hadn't come back to himself until he heard the ratcheting clicks of the handcuffs locking into place.

Then he heard Clarke's strangled sobbing, Raven's agonized screams, and the blaring sirens flooding the lot. All the sound faded away though, the second he looked into Clarke's eyes. And she cowered away from him.

She was scared of him, and the emotion in her eyes was one of disbelief and distrust.

And that was the worst feeling in the world. He'd taken away the one sure thing Clarke had left in this place: himself.

The crushing weight of having disappointed her, having broken her trust and letting her down fell onto Bellamy as he hung his head, not able to wipe away his tears. He stopped straining against the cuffs and felt limp, defeated.

By the time he looked up again, Clarke and Raven were gone, and all that was left was an officer taping off the blood stained concrete. The yellow caution tape fluttered in the breeze; a stark line separating everyone else from the place where the world had shattered around them.

* * *

The ride to wherever the hell they were going was short, and Bellamy was abruptly pulled from the car and shoved into a building by two officers. He put up no resistance and said nothing, resigned to sit quietly and not speak unless spoken to.

His wallet, phone, and Miller's keys were taken from him, and he was uncuffed in a small room where he was allowed to wash the blood from his hands. Then he had his fingerprints taken. A gruff older man grabbed each finger in turn, pressing the pad into the ink then onto the paper, uncaring as Bellamy winced each time.

He had mugshots taken. Like a real criminal.

Then he was chained to a bench by his ankles and wrists. He didn't even get a jail cell like he had been expecting. Maybe that was a good sign, though, that they deemed him sane enough to sit out in the open of the station.

Sitting there, watching the busy action all around as officers and receptionists hurried around, Bellamy finally allowed his thoughts to shift from himself to Raven. He prayed she wasn't going to suffer lasting damage. His gut twisted when he realized that perhaps he should be praying that she might even live. He wasn't medically inclined, but it didn't exactly take a genius to figure that a gunshot wound to the abdomen was potentially life threatening.

Bellamy's mind shifted to next to Clarke, as it was prone to do nowadays. He hoped she was holding up alright and willed her strength. Of course he knew she was strong, but she hadn't come face to face with Finn that closely since the night he raped her. Any other time, he would have given anything to be at her side, especially under these strenuous circumstances, but now, he didn't know if she would want to see him. What if she never wanted to be near him again? The mere thought of losing Clarke's friendship felt like a blow to the stomach.

Bellamy's mind lingered on Clarke for a while longer, remembering instead how she smiled and laughed at the Gopher's football game. How she held his hand when they walked home from having dinner at Matt's Bar. How she felt when he hugged her close to his chest.

A woman walking by in clacking heels brought him out of his reverie and back into the present. He watched her back as she walked away, her shiny dark hair swaying with her steps. Her hair reminded him of his sister's.

He wondered what Octavia would say when she found out. She was sure to be disappointed and probably angry with him. Maybe once she knew the whole story, she would forgive Bellamy. That whole mess wasn't something he wanted to think about, so instead, Bellamy closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the cold cement wall behind the bench and tried to clear his mind, waiting for whatever came next.

* * *

Clarke had to use her other hand to pry Raven's finger's off her. Even though she had slipped into a drug induced stupor halfway to the hospital thanks to the IV, her grip on Clarke's hand hadn't loosened. They pushed the gurney through a pair of swinging doors, which were very obviously marked _AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY._

Clarke stood in the hallway, watching the doors swing shut, leaving her behind. For several moments, she felt like she might break down and cry. It felt almost like she had been abandoned even though she had never expected to be able to go along with Raven as they wheeled her into the emergency department. She wasn't Raven's family, although she may as well have been.

"Excuse me, are you the one who came in with- _Raven Reyes?" _Clarke turned to see a woman in her late forties holding a clipboard, staring at her over a pair of obnoxiously large pink glasses.

"Yes."

"Okay, sweetie, can you come with me? I just need some information." The lady turned around and walked off, her steps small and neat, limited by her pencil skirt.

Ten minutes later, Clarke had given Lizzy Klince all the information she knew about Raven. It didn't amount to very much.

Lizzy led her to a waiting room, promising that Clarke would be informed as soon as there was something to know about Raven. Before Clarke could even take a seat though, she was intercepted by Officer Emerson.

"Miss Griffin, I understand you're going through a lot right now, but I do need to speak with you."

Clarke frowned.

"What you say could make the difference between whether or not Mr. Blake has to have an arraignment hearing," Emerson said, and that got Clarke's attention.

The Officer smiled knowingly, which made Clarke shift uncomfortably. "Follow me, so we can talk in private."

Unlike Lizzy, Emerson held out an arm and waited for Clarke to start walking along beside him. He didn't speak until he had shut the door to a small, windowless room across the hall from the emergency waiting room.

It was set up with only a table in the center, with a chair on either side. On the center of the table there was a small silver recording device, already blinking red. Clarke wondered how often the police spoke to people in the emergency room. It must happen fairly often, seeing how there was a whole room dedicated to the matter.

She slid stiffly into the chair and couldn't help saying, "Aren't you not supposed to talk to the police unless you have an attorney present?"

Emerson laughed lightly. "Nothing you say will be used against you, you are speaking on behalf of Mr. Bellamy Blake."

"Why not Finn? He's the criminal."

Emerson raised a brow, asking Clarke to go on. She swallowed stiffly, not wanting to say anything more. There was no way she could just come out and just explain the whole situation. She wished Bellamy were there beside her, because everything would just be so much easier. He'd say something reassuring and probably let her hold his hand. The same hand he had used to beat Finn senseless… The look in his eyes had terrified her, that much was certain, but Clarke had no doubt about the fact that Bellamy would never, _never, _hurt her. In fact, what he had done to Finn, had been out of defense for her and Raven, so if anything, it made her feel safer around him. At least, that's what she wanted to think.

"Miss Griffin?" Emerson interrupted her thoughts, causing Clarke to jump.

"Sorry, I- what did you ask?"

"Just tell me what happened. Your version of the story," Emerson prompted, and upon seeing Clarke's hesitation, added, "And nothing you say will be used against you."

"What about against Bellamy?" Clarke asked, immediately regretting the question. "Not that he has anything to cover up, he did nothing wrong."

Emerson nodded and pulled a small notepad from his breast pocket and fished in his pants pocket for a pen. Once he situated himself, Clarke began to talk.

She told him that she and Bellamy had gone to pick up Raven because they were scared Finn might hurt her. They'd been right, and when they found her, she was bleeding so they stopped at the gas station to get napkins, and then Finn just showed up. Finn tried to get Raven into the car, but Bellamy tried to stop it. Finn pulled out a gun and shot Raven, so Bellamy attacked him and kicked away the gun, and then he just started punching Finn.

Clarke shuddered. "I guess once he got started he just couldn't stop."

Emerson hadn't spoken once during Clarke's whole story, and he didn't now, he only nodded and scribbled down a few notes.

Clarke couldn't look at him, instead tracing her eyes along the wood grain of the table, following the swirling, irregular patterns. She hadn't exactly lied to the officer, she had just left some things out, such as the motives of the incident, and that Finn had shot Raven on accident. Clarke hadn't even been planning on omitting that bit, because, well, she didn't know for _sure _that it had been an accident.

But, a lie by omission was still a lie, and even if she hadn't sworn on a Bible, it still felt wrong.

"Did Finn and Bellamy have any prior disagreements before this incident?"

Clarke blinked, stalling. "What do you mean?"

"Did they know each other before today?"

"Not really."

"What do you mean by that?" Emerson pressed. Clarke shifted, feeling claustrophobic in the small room.

"They'd never met before, I don't think."

"Okay-"

"Can we take a break?" Clarke sputtered, starting to rise from the table. She needed some air.

Emerson studied for a second. "One more question."

Clarke frowned, but nodded.

"I know you are leaving something out of this story, Miss Griffin," he said levelly, and Clarke felt alarm flare in her chest. "I don't know exactly what, but I have a vague idea it has something to do with you. Most men only get that crazy when something is threatening the woman they love."

Clarke flinched unknowingly.

"So take a moment, gather your thoughts, and when you're ready to tell me exactly what happened, come back."

Clarke didn't nod, she only slid out of her chair and made for the door, throwing it open. She nearly ran headfirst into a second officer in the hall, who called out to her as she rushed passed.

"The hell did you do to her, Emerson?" Clarke heard him ask. She didn't stick around long enough to hear Emerson's reply, making for the large sitting area at the end of the hall. There were a couple of people sitting about, talking on the phone or reading the _Better Homes and Gardens_ magazines that had probably been on the sitting room's coffee table since 2007.

Clarke crossed the room to the large window that looked over a garden filled with autumn flowers. The sight was slightly calming, so Clarke watched a lazy bee buzzing around as she composed herself, preparing to go back in there and tell the whole story. Would that save Bellamy from being wrongfully imprisoned? Could he really go to jail just for beating someone up?

She needed to know if Finn was okay. If he wasn't… well… Bellamy would be a murderer then, wouldn't he? How could the same hands that wiped tears off her cheeks kill a man? It just wasn't possible.

After a few more minutes, Clarke made her way towards the ER reception desk, slinking past the mouth of the hallway where the officers were still chatting. Lizzy was there, typing on her computer as Clarke approached.

"No updates on your friend yet, sorry sweetie."

"Uh, actually I was wondering about the guy who came in with her? Finn?" Clarke asked, gripping the edge of the counter.

Lizzy nodded understandingly. "Another friend?"

"Yes," Clarke said, as convincingly as possible.

"Well, I can't give you specifics because you're not family, but I can say he's alive, judging by the doctors and nurses in and out of his bay," Lizzy whispered like she was disclosing some scandalous secret.

"Okay, thank you." That's all Clarke really wanted to know anyway.

"Of course, sweetie. I think those officers are looking for you, so don't go too far."

Clarke nodded, noticing Emerson leaning against the wall at the far end of the waiting room, and foam coffee cup in one hand.

Just as she was steeling herself to go back into his _interrogation _room, Clarke's phone started buzzing in her pocket. She hadn't even remembered it was there, but pulling it out, Octavia's name flashed on the screen, along with the goofy picture she'd set for herself, with all of her Gopher gear on at the football game. God, that felt like years ago. The call dropped to voicemail as Clarke stared blankly at it.

Then Octavia called right back. Clarke watched it ring, one, two, three times, before accepting the call.

"Hello?"

"_Clarke? You there?"_

"Yep."

"_Oh thank God. Where the hell did you and Bell go? Miller said you took his van over to St. Thomas._" Octavia's voice didn't sound totally hysterical, so Clarke took the reasonable assumption that Bellamy hadn't called her from the holding facility yet.

"Uh, yeah we did."

A long silence passed before Octavia impatiently asked. "_And? Where are you guys now? Did you pick up Raven?"_

"Sort of…"

"_Sort of?"_

"Uh, I don't know how- Octavia-" Clarke struggled for words, wringing her hand until her nails bit into her palm. "Raven got shot and Bellamy got arrested." Clarke spit the words out, chewing on her lip as a beat passed before Octavia's voice exploded through the receiver.

"_WHAT? Bell got arrested? Raven got SHOT? What the hell happened Clarke?!"_

Clarke didn't respond, listening to Octavia blither on while Harper asked questions in the background.

"_Jesus, holy shit_," Octavia finished.

"Bellamy didn't do anything though," Clarke said, even though that wasn't exactly true. "He didn't deserve to be arrested, I'm sure he'll be released or whatever they do. I mean, he's not a criminal."

"_Who shot Raven?"_

"Finn."

"_Finn? What the fuck? I thought-"_

"Look, Octavia, I don't know what to do. I don't know what's going on with Bellamy, and no one will tell me anything about Raven and I need to go to talk to the police and I have no idea-"

"_Don't worry about it Clarke. We'll see what's up with Bellamy and then we'll be at the hospital. Need me to bring you a change of clothes?" _Harper's clear, calm voice came through the phone.

"Yes please," Clarke whispered. "And don't let them lock Bellamy up. He was just protecting us."

"_Okay, I know. See you soon Clarke. Tell Raven to hang in there. See you soon, okay?"_

"Yeah. Thanks Harper."

"_Don't mention it."_

The line clicked off and Clarke clutched her phone in both hands, as if to leech some of Harper's tranquility through the screen. She didn't know if talking to her friends had made her feel better or worse, but at least she knew that someone would find out what was going on with Bellamy.

Clarke crossed the waiting room to where Emerson was standing. He introduced her to the other officer.

"I'm Sergeant Lovejoy, Miss Griffin," he said. He looked nicer than Emerson.

Clarke nodded at him, reentering the small room as he held the door open for her.

"I understand your friend, Mr. Bellamy Blake, was arrested at the scene?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Officer Emerson explained the situation to me, from the police perspective. I just want to get a better sense of the _personal _situation, though."

Clarke nodded. Lovejoy had a sincere face and Clarke felt a lot more comfortable around him than she did when she did when it was just Emerson and her.

"You see, I'm not interested in what the first responders or the officers saw, because they only arrived at the end of the situation. I want to know about the events leading up to the moments where everything went haywire. People are complex creatures with complex motivations." Lovejoy folded his hands in his lap and unassumingly leaned back in his seat, as if they were sitting down to a conversation about highschool soccer or last night's thunderstorm.

It did a lot to relax Clarke.

"Bellamy's not the bad guy," she whispered.

"I know he's not," Lovejoy agreed.

Then Clarke started talking, telling the whole story from the beginning. Unlike Emerson, Lovejoy talked to her while she recounted, giving her gentle prompts and asking relevant questions. His tone was always understanding and never condescending. He didn't scold her for not turning to the police right after her assault. He believed her when she told him that Bellamy was the best man she'd ever met.

And it was _simple. _Not exactly easy, but it was straightforward, to just tell the truth. When Clarke faltered, all she had to do was remind herself that this was to help _Bellamy, _and then the words flowed.

"Okay. Based on everything I've heard, we shouldn't have any trouble getting Mr. Blake out of police custody."

Clarke looked up as Lovejoy stacked up some papers. "Really?"

He nodded. "Your testimony coupled with the security footage of the parking lot we were able to secure provides more than enough evidence for a judge."

"A _judge?" _

"Mr. Blake may have to appear in court, but we will try to avoid that."

"He doesn't like to be called that."

"Excuse me?"

"Mr. Blake. He prefers Bellamy."

Lovejoy nodded. "Sure," He stood and offered a hand to Clarke. "I'm sorry for everything you've had to go through, Miss Griffin, and I appreciate how difficult it must have been to share that all with me today."

Clarke only nodded.

"Now, this isn't something you have to decide now, but you should consider whether or not you'd like to press charges against Mr. Finn Collins."

Clarke froze. "I-"

"Don't worry about it now, but you may want to speak to an attorney."

Clarke shook her head. The only thing she wanted to do was put this whole disaster behind her, but Finn just wouldn't disappear from her life. Hopefully he'd go to prison for shooting Raven and she'd never have to think about him ever again.

"Anyway, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go speak with Bellamy," Lovejoy smiled at Clarke.

Clarke felt her chest tighten. "Will you tell him-" _Tell him what? "_Just, tell him I'm thinking about him?"

Lovejoy agreed, a small knowing grin on his face.

Clarke retreated to the waiting room, where she had nothing but her racing thoughts to keep her company as she waited for any news on Raven or Bellamy.

**AN_**

**Long time, no see! Sorry about that guys. I thought getting back to a regular class schedule would give me more time to write, but turns out the opposite was true. :( The past two week have been pretty hectic so I took a brief (unannounced) hiatus. **

**Thanks for sticking around, you are the greatest!**

**-Birch66724**


	32. Chapter 32

Bellamy didn't know how long he sat on that damn aluminum bench, shackled to the floor like a dog, but it was long enough for his entire left leg to go numb, and for the throbbing in his knuckles to fade into a persistent dull ache.

He sat, frozen, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and the heels of his hands pressed into his eyes, sealing out all light. It was like he was in another world, separate from the one around him. The officers and receptionists and parole officers milled around the station, going about their work and living their lives. Bellamy was not even a blip on their radar, just another common criminal.

It had him feeling insignificant and low, that no one would even spare him a second glance. He was just another man with bruised knuckles waiting in a police station. Just another low-life slipping through the cracks of society. Another person like his mother...

The only thing present in his mind, despite his feelings of self-loathing, was a gnawing concern of Clarke and Raven. Where were they? Surely Raven was at the hospital, but was Clarke there with her? Or was Clarke being interrogated? What was she going through? Was she telling everything to an officer, some overweight, underpaid jerk who didn't give a ratsass about everything Clarke had gone through, and was only interested in filing her statements into the system so he could go home to his nice little bungalow in the suburbs?

It made Bellamy strain against the cuffs as if sheer frustration could sever the bonds and let him go to her. Let him comfort her and hold her hand. She _needed _him, but more than that, Bellamy needed _her. _

"Bellamy Blake."

Bellamy looked up, squinting into the fluorescent lights of the station. Another man in uniform came into focus, staring down at him with a faintly... amused look?

"I'm Sergeant Lovejoy, the investigator on your case." The man held out a hand for Bellamy to shake.

Bellamy suppressed a shudder at the word _case, _reaching out to shake the man's hand. Only, the cuffs stopped him short, snapping on their short chain.

"Whoops. Sorry 'bout that." Lovejoy said, fishing in his pocket. "You look like shit," he added wryly.

Bellamy mumbled, "Thanks." This guy didn't seem half bad, At least he had a sense of humor.

Lovekjoy chuckled, withdrawing a key and motioning for Bellamy's wrists. "Worried about Clarke?"

Bellamy's eyes shot up, all fogginess in his head dispelling at the very mention of her name.

"Thought so," Lovejoy said, not unkindly, as he loosed the cuffs, letting them fall to the floor with a metallic clank.

"How is she? I mean, she's not injured, or anything?"

"No, no. She's, well, a bit rattled, but she's okay."

Bellamy exhaled as he rose to his feet. "That's good. You talked to her?"

"Yeah, she asked me to let you know that she's '_thinking about you'," _Lovejoy said as he started walking down the hallway. Bellamy trailed after him, wondering briefly why he was no longer bound as if he were a threat to society.

"Okay. That's good. How about Raven? The girl that was shot?"

"Couldn't say." Lovejoy held a door open for Bellamy.

Bellamy nodded. At least Clarke was okay. Clarke would call Octavia, and then his sister would have a conniption fit, but oh well. They would go to the hospital and stay with Clarke until Bellamy could.

"So, what's the plan then?" Bellamy asked, sitting stiffly in the chair Lovejoy offered him.

Lovejoy didn't respond, he only slapped a thick manilla folder onto the table and started leafing through pages of paper. Time slowed to a standstill as Bellamy bounced his knee, tension rising by the second.

Finally, the investigator settled in a seat across from Bellamy and began speaking. "Well, Bellamy Blake, I know you're not the bad guy in this situation."

Bellamy didn't react. Sure, he wasn't the gun wielding maniac, but he wasn't completely faultless. He'd still committed an unspeakable act.

"Clarke's testimony really put things into perspective, plus, we have evidence from the scene, including security footage from the convenience store and a couple of eyewitnesses. I'm going to make a case that you should be released this afternoon, and I think we've got good odds of that happening."

Bellamy let a beat pass. "Really?"

"Mhmm."

"Oh God, thank you so much," Bellamy gushed on an exhale, dropping his head into his hands and raking his fingers through his hair, tugging on the roots to ground himself.

"Don't thank me, I'm just doing my job."

Bellamy nodded, straightening up.

"Now, the courts don't want to be bogged down with a case like yours, so let me go make a couple of calls, and we should have you out of here by four."

Bellamy nodded again. "Thank you so much, Sergeant. I mean, I can't-"

"Easy now!" Lovejoy chuckled as Bellamy latched on his hand, shaking in firmly. "I can't promise anything, all I'm saying is that the odds are looking good. I just need to run it past the boss man so my ass isn't on the line if you go out there and commit a felony or somethin'."

"Of course. I promise, you'll never hear from me again. I'm a model citizen, really."

"I believe you," Lovejoy said earnestly, patting Bellamy on the shoulder as he left the room. That was all he needed to hear. He slouched into the chair, relieved for a fraction of a second. At least he wasn't going to end up in lockup.

The room was windowless and had no clock, so judging the passing of time was difficult. Bellamy's thoughts remained firmly on the topic of Raven and Clarke, praying Raven was doing alright, and Clarke had her friends by her side by now. They'd help her. He even wondered how Finn was doing, tossing in a halfhearted prayer that he hadn't done irreparable damage to the boy's head, even if he deserved it. Bellamy didn't want that on his conscience.

Perhaps it had been five minutes or five hours, but the door swung open.

"Alright, Mr. Blake. Ope, sorry, Bellamy. I know you don't like _Mr. Blake," _Lovejoy said teasingly.

Bellamy raised a brow and grinned. "Clarke?"

"She knows you well, I guess."

"She does."

Bellamy's urge to be by her side flared then, so he eagerly followed Lovejoy out into the hall.

"So does that sister you've got."

"Oh God. She's here?"

"Yep. Has been nearly the whole time, pacing up and down the place, driving the receptionist crazy."

Bellamy chuckled. "Sounds like Octavia. Patience doesn't really run in the family."

They continued down several halls that felt like a maze to Bellamy, until they emerged back at the place where he'd been admitted into the facility. His phone, wallet, and Miller's keys were returned to him.

"Thank you, for everything," Bellamy said to Lovejoy, who was overseeing his release.

"Of course son. Just don't make me have to do it again."

"You won't, sir."

"I trust you'll stay out of trouble. Now get out of here!" Lovejoy waved him off with a fatherly smile. Bellamy didn't hesitate to follow his advice, pushing through a pair of doors into a lobby area, packed with people.

It took only a moment to spot Octavia, as she was leaning over a reception desk, practically shouting at a lady.

"Hey, O!" Bellamy called, distracting her. Her head swung up, eyes still set in a glare.

"What the hell, Bellamy!" She snapped, giving him one hard punch to the chest. It hurt enough for Bellamy to exhale and stoop over a slight bit, but a second later, Octavia's arms snaked around him.

"I'm so sorry," he apologized into her hair.

"It's fine. I guess. You're here now, so-" Octavia pulled back, looking surprisingly emotional. Bellamy felt a blow to his chest much stronger than the one his sister had just given him. He was supposed to be there for her, but here she was, taking care of him. He must have terrified her, and for that, he felt immensely guilty.

"Yeah. Let's get to the hospital. Have you heard anything about Raven?" Bellamy questioned, starting for the door.

"No, Harper went with Jasper and Monty to wait with Clarke. They haven't said anything," Octavia sniffled, pulling her phone from her back pocket to double check.

Bellamy nodded, reveling in the fresh air that washed over him as he shoved the door open. He felt like he'd been stuck in there for weeks, when in reality, it had only been a couple of hours.

Miller and Murphy were outside, leaning casually against the side of an old Kia.

"Aye, the man, the myth, the legend himself!"

"How was jail, man?"

Bellamy rolled his eyes at the guys. "Shut up. I wasn't in jail."

"Sure you weren't. Handcuffs? Ride in a cop car? Sounds like jail to me," Murphy said.

"I was _arrested, _not _imprisoned." _

"Same difference," Murphy shrugged.

"Hey, sorry about the van, Miller. It wasn't impounded, was it?" Bellamy cringed.

"Nah, they just took it to a holding lot or something. I can go pick it up whenever."

Bellamy handed him the keys and Octavia explained that they'd hired an Uber to come pick him up, and take them to the hospital. They all clambered into the car and took off.

"So, what do you know?" Bellamy asked cautiously, He didn't know what Clarke had told them, and he wasn't about to tell them her story.

"Uh, the sky's red, the Earth is flat, and the oceans are filled with diet 7-UP," Murphy spouted.

"Haha, very funny," Octavia said dryly. "Not much, really. Clarke just said, '_Raven got shot and Bellamy got arrested_' and left it at that."

"Hmm."

"Real descriptive, right? Was it like a drug deal gone wrong? Or were you being mugged or something?" Murphy asked, almost excited at the possibilities.

"Shut up," Miller shushed him.

Bellamy looked at their expectant faces, unsure of what to say. "Well, it's not really my story to tell. It's- personal."

Octavia scowled.

"I mean, it's Clarke's business to tell, not mine."

Murphy scoffed. "Dude, you got fuckin' arrested, I'm pretty sure it's your buisness."

"Yeah... It's not like that though. Just- let Clarke tell you. If she wants to."

It was a rather cryptic statement, and was met with frowns throughout the group.

They arrived at the hospital without incident, paying the driver and entering the building. Octavia called Harper and got directions to where they were waiting. Bellamy buzzed with anticipation as they drew nearer. Would Clarke be upset with him? Or worse, scared of him? That would quite simply devastate Bellamy, as all he wanted to do was scoop her up in a hug and never let her out of his sight again.

"Oh! There you are!" Octavia said, clicking off the phone as she stepped out of an elevator.

Sure enough, tucked in the corner of the waiting room, partially hidden behind a large blue faux leather couch, was the rest of the group. Harper was standing, waving them over, while Jasper and Monty said on either side of the slouched blond lump that was Clarke.

They hurried over, but Clarke didn't even look up. Bellamy couldn't hear anyone else as he stared at her. His Princess. He spared a glance at Octavia, but she just shrugged. Had they not told her he was coming?

"Clarke?" He said softly, crouching in front of her. She didn't move. For several painful seconds, Bellamy watched her, petrified that she would never want to meet his gaze again.

But then she looked up, her gorgeous blue eyes flashing with disbelief. They stared at one another for a long time, as if neither of them believed that the other was real.

Clarke's face held the absolute opposite of fear. She looked so _relieved _at the sight of him, that Bellamy could hardly contain himself.

"Bellamy," Clarke murmured, and in a flurry of motion, her legs, which had been tucked up to her chest, dropped to the floor as she propelled herself forward, knocking into him with a force that sent Bellamy sprawling backwards from his crouching position.

"Oh my God-" she gasped. Bellamy struggled to sit upright as Clarke clung to him, burying her face in the crook of his neck, her fuzzy curls tickling his face.

"Hi Clarke," he said lamely, fitting his arms around her and holding her close, not caring what any of their onlooking friends were thinking. It felt so good to have her here, tucked up against him where he knew she was safe. It felt a hundred times better than that first punch to Finn's stupid face had felt. A thousand times better.

"I thought- Oh God, I thought you were going to go to jail and I was never going to see you-"

"Shh, it's alright. I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere."

Clarke groaned as her chest expanded with a shaky breath. "Don't go," she pleaded softly.

"I won't," Bellamy promised, pressing his face into the top of her hair, reveling in the sweet scent of her shampoo.

"I'm so sorry," Clarke murmured. "This is all my fault."

"Hey, don't say that. It's not true."

Clarke pulled back, leaving a gaping absence in Bellamy's arms and heart. He stared at her face as she sniffled and wiped at her nose the back of her sleeve. Her eyes had deep purple bags under them and her hair was a ruffled mess. She looked exhausted but totally beautiful at the same time.

"Hate to burst your bubble, but I think the rest of us need an explanation," Murphy interrupted. Clarke ducked her head away in an attempt to hide the color rushing to her cheeks, while Bellamy scowled up at Murphy.

He caught his sister's eye, and she gave him a critical look, but she wasn't glaring daggers or looking as if she was about to blow her lid.

"Yeah, uh, okay," Bellamy offered, getting to his feet before offering a hand to help Clarke up. She laced her fingers through his as she came to stand beside him.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I should have told everyone everything a long time ago, but-" Clarke cut off, looking to the floor. Harper had that sweet look of concern while the boys just stood awkwardly, able to understand the severity of the emotion, but not knowing what to say or do.

"Let's go over here, where it's quieter," Bellamy suggested, giving Clarke's arm a gentle tug until she nodded and the group centered around them in the corner of the waiting room where they were less likely to be overheard.

Clarke, with Bellamy's help and support, recounted the events of that morning, as well as the preceding events. Bellamy was so proud of her, appreciating just how hard it must have been, but if there was one thing Clarke was, she was strong.

Harper came to Clarke's other side and stroked her hair, and Octavia cringed and gave Clarke plenty of sympathetic looks. The guys just lowered their heads, scuffing their feet on the worn carpet and muttering curses at Finn and apologies for Clarke.

"And that's all there is to know, I guess," Clarke finished, giving Bellamy's hand a squeeze before dropping it to wipe at her nose again. Jasper grabbed her Kleenex while Harper hugged her.

Bellamy had never really understood Clarke's reasoning for why she didn't want to tell their friends, but he hoped she felt relief now that she had. Bellamy knew he did. It wasn't like he hadn't liked being Clarke's go-to guy, he definitely did, but now that everyone knew, he had no reason to tiptoe around them and feel the need to lie for Clarke's sake. They were all in the same boat now, and their goal was to support and love Clarke. It was as simple as that.

"Hey man, thanks for beating the shit out of Finn," Miller said.

"Yeah. We might have to do it again though, once he gets out of the hospital," Murphy added.

Bellamy chuckled. "Yeah, I can't say it didn't feel good... but I shouldn't have done it."

"Like hell you shouldn't have! I probably would have killed him. Who thinks that can just go around beating up on girls and raping them? What a sick bastard," Miller said boldly.

Bellamy didn't disagree, but he kept quiet. He did feel guilty about maiming Finn, but hopefully the guy learned a lesson. And if Bellamy's face rearrangement didn't teach it to him, hopefully prison would.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for Clarke Griffin?"

Everyone paused and turned to see a doctor in a white coat standing there.

Clarke hurried forward. "Yes, I'm Clarke. Is Raven okay?"

The doctor gave a tight lipped expression and Bellamy felt his stomach drop. That didn't exactly look good.

"I'm doctor Eric Jackson, I was-"

"You look a little young for a doctor," Murphy interjected. He was quickly silenced by harsh glares from everyone.

"Aren't you the EMT, the one form the scene?" Clarke questioned, one hand on her hip.

"Uh yes. I was just filling in for a friend's shift though. I used to be an EMT, but now I'm a physician so I-"

"Okay, okay, get to the point. How's Raven?" Octavia butted in.

Dr. Jackson looked a bit taken aback, but he blinked and continued on.

"Your friend Raven has experienced quite a trauma. The bullet entered her lower back, and lodged in the spinous process of the L2 vertebrae. It also caused substantial damage to the nerve tissues running between the vertebrae. She has been taken up to surgery to remove the bullet and repair as much of the damage as we can."

"Okay..." Clarke murmured, then tentatively asked, "How much damage?"

"At this point, we don't know for sure, but it looks like she has a partial core transection and hemiparesis of her left leg, including the ankle and foot," Dr. Jackson continued, but no one except Clarke seemed to know what that meant. Judging by her sagging shoulders though, it wasn't good news.

"English please, Doc."

"She's partially paralized," Clarke cut in, her voice hardening by the syllable. "She might not ever walk again, all because of _Finn." _

**AN_**

**Happy October everyone. Thanks for reading!**

**-Birch66724**


	33. Chapter 33

Clarke was exhausted, both physically and mentally. She was now sitting in the surgical wing waiting room, but it was really no different than the ER waiting room. Same blue faux leather furniture, same dinged up coffee tables, same Reader's Digest magazines from ten years ago, same bored receptionist and same anxiously waiting families.

The day seemed never ending, and even now, it was only half past ten. The clock on the far wall seemed to tick by impossibly slowly as they waited for any more news on Raven. They'd only been told that her surgery was well underway and so far, there were no unexpected complications. Whatever that meant.

The boys, minus Bellamy, had gone out and brought back some supper, but Clarke had only picked at her takeout meal, her appetite absent. They passed the time in muted conversation, no one really knowing what to say. Clarke was ultimately relieved to have revealed her secret to her friends, but now they were awkward around her, despite Clarke's urging that she was perfectly fine.

"Do you think they got the van yet?" Bellamy asked her from where he was seated beside her on the small sofa.

"I'd think so, they left almost two hours ago."

"I just hope they didn't have too much trouble getting it back."

Clarke turned her head to look at Bellamy's tense face. He hadn't relaxed for even a second since he'd gotten here.

"I'm sure it was just fine," Clarke assured him. He only nodded, his eyes fixed on the carpet.

Clarke wasn't really sure what he was feeling, and she hadn't had much of a chance to talk to him. Now seemed like as good of a time as any, as Miller and Murphy had gone to retrieve his van from police holding, taking Jasper and Monty with them so they could head back to the dorms and get some sleep. Harper and Octavia had just left to go on a walk around the hospital to stretch their legs, leaving Bellamy and Clarke alone in the waiting room with strict orders to call them the second a doctor came out with more information.

The girls had refused to leave the hospital, and so had Bellamy. Clarke wondered if his determination to stay was based strictly off of a warped sense of responsibility he felt towards Raven. Not that Clarke minded, his presence was a godsend, and she honestly didn't know if she would have been able to hold up if he hadn't shown up when he did.

"I'm glad you're here, Bellamy."

He slowly looked over at her and smiled softly. "No place I'd rather be."

"I'd rather be anywhere else," Clarke muttered darkly.

Bellamy cleared his throat, leaning back into the stiff sofa. "You know what I meant."

"Yeah. I know."

They sat silent for a moment before Bellamy spoke up again. "You should get some rest, Princess."

"You know there's no chance in hell I'm leaving. We've already had this conversation like, six times."

"Yeah, figured you'd say that."

Clarke stifled a yawn, reaching her arms out in front of her in a stretch. Today had been one of the most draining days of her life, leaving her feeling as if she could sleep for a hundred years and still be tired when she awoke. Despite that, Clarke knew there was no way she'd ever fall asleep until she got word of Raven's condition. Poor Raven... everything was so damned unfair.

"Just lay down here, close your eyes for a bit," Bellamy suggested.

Clarke gave him a skeptical look, covering her mouth with the back of her hand as she yawned again. Bellamy caught the contagious gesture and made no attempt to hide his yawn, his strong jaw flexing as his teeth caught in the fluorescent gleam of the overhead lights. For whatever reason, Clarke watched until he shook his head like a dog, his matted curls bouncing.

"I couldn't even if I tried," Clarke said. "But you should. I'm sure your day has been ten times worse than mine. I'll wake you up if anything interesting happens."

"Nah, jail wasn't that bad," he smirked, "Could've used some less restricting accessories, though."

Clarke half smiled, amused by his joke, but still cringed at the harsh red lines around his wrists that had yet to fade. She reached out and ran her fingers along the irritated skin. If she thought his wrists were bad though... his knuckles were on an entirely new level.

They were swollen and purple and crusted with blood in the creases of his skin.

"I can still get you some ice for these."

Bellamy shrugged, pulling his hand away from Clarke. "I've had worse before. They'll heal up in a few days."

Clarke sighed softly, looking up at his somber brown eyes, wisps of messy hair falling in front of them, when she remembered something.

"C'mere." She gestured to the floor and he frowned with confusion. "You'll like this, I promise."

Bellamy hesitantly slid off the couch and leaned back against it, tipping his head back to look at Clarke upside down. She scooted over and pushed his head back up with one finger.

Suddenly a spike of nervousness made Clarke's chest lurch, but she knew Bellamy would appreciate this. They'd been so close to one another all day, why would this be any different?

Starting at the base of his neck, she ran her fingers up his scalp, against the grain of his hair, ruffing it up even more.

"Mmm-" Bellamy groaned, leaning into her touch. Clarke pulled her fingers from the tangle of his hair as a woman sitting a few chairs away from them gave her an odd look.

"No, don't stop..." he practically begged her. If Clarke thought he liked this when he was drunk, then he _really _liked it when he was sober.

Clarke combed the knots out of his hair while his head lolled back into her lap, his eyes blissfully closed. Her plan of getting him to relax had worked even better than she'd expected; Bellamy was practically a puddle at her feet, so much so one would think she was doing something else to him...

Crushing that thought, Clarke relaxed her own shoulders back onto the couch, not moving her hand from Bellamy's hair. The dark ringlets coiled around her hand, looping around her fingers and shifting like a pool of dark water at her touch.

It was sort of mesmerizing to watch, and coupled with Bellamy's definite enjoyment, it was a worthwhile endeavor, despite the odd looks from the woman everytime Bellamy made a noise. Clarke just gave him a smack on the shoulder and he would give a lazy grin and a mumbled apology.

That was the first time since entering the hospital it didn't feel like the clocks were clogged up with molasses. Fifteen minutes passed in the blink of an eye, and Clarke's eyes were drooping more than ever. Bellamy had nodded off several minutes ago, his head nestled in the crook of Clarke's folded leg, but she hadn't stopped running her fingers through his hair. Maybe she worried it would wake him if she stopped, or maybe she just didn't want to stop.

Another couple minutes passed and Harper and Octavia appeared through the door, making their way over to where they had been sitting since they moved up to this waiting room hours ago. Clarke withdrew her hand and held a finger to her lips, nodding to Bellamy.

Octavia stopped in front of her older brother, rolling her eyes at him before smirking at Clarke and flopping down in her chair. Harper cooed over Bellamy like he was a baby, giving Clarke a thumbs-up like she had accomplished some amazing feat by getting him to fall asleep.

They settled back into the never ending waiting, but Clarke's thoughts remained on the man who was asleep in her lap. His steady, gentle exhales tickled the crook of her knee and the weight of his head felt comforting and reassuring. That was the sort of effect that he had on Clarke everytime he was around, to calm her down and keep her head level.

She thought back to earlier, when the only thing she's wanted for comfort was him. How her first thought was where he was and if he was okay. How as soon as she'd seen him in the waiting room downstairs, it was all she could do to throw herself into his arms. Somehow, in the few weeks they'd known each other, Clarke had wrapped herself around Bellamy so tightly, she wasn't sure she could break the bonds if she tried. It was partly terrifying, to depend on someone so completely, but it was also freeing and alleviating to know he had her back no matter the situation.

Clarke thought back to his earlier comment, about how there was no place he'd rather be. Of course, waiting on your friend to get out of potentially life-threatening surgery wasn't the greatest place to be, but Bellamy was by her side, so it could be worse. Much worse.

* * *

"Miss Griffin?" A voice and gentle shaking of her shoulder roused Clarke.

"Hmm?" She blinked awake, shifting on the couch which made her right shoulder spasm as it moved from the position it had been wedged in.

"Sorry to wake you, but Raven is out of surgery."

Clarke shot upright. Had she heard that right?

"She is? Oh!" It was disorienting to be woken up in a waiting room at an ungodly hour, but Dr. Jackson stood before her and Clarke couldn't be more pleased.

"Is she okay? I mean, how did the surgery go?" Clarke asked quickly.

"It was a long-"

"What? Who's there?" Bellamy's voice was groggy as he leapt to his feet from the floor, nearly toppling Dr. Jackson is his haste.

"Easy Bellamy!" Clarke said, reaching out a hand to grab his wrist. Bellamy shot a glance around the room, taking in the doctor, Clarke, then his sister and Harper, who were slumped against one another, sleeping on the adjacent couch.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing! Sit down," Clarke tugged him back to the couch when he flopped down, rubbing at his eyes. "Raven's out of surgery."

"Oh she is? How is she?" Bellamy asked Dr. Jackson and Clarke rolled her eyes.

The doctor only smiled kindly and picked up where he'd left off. "It was a long surgery, and we did experience some minor complications in trying to repair her sciatic nerve. The peroneal nerve was shredded by the bullet and we were unable to salvage it."

Clarke's heart sunk. Bellamy took in her reaction, frowning as he asked, "Well what's that mean?"

"It may mean that Raven will have loss of function in her left leg. We won't know the extent of the injury until she wakes up. It may be minor, and she may have only lost sensation in her toes, or it could be more extensive."

Clarke shook her head. "I don't- How much damage is there? Could you do a second surgery once she heals a little bit?"

Dr. Jackson gave a small shake of his head. "We won't know more until Raven wakes up, but at this point, if the damage is major, a second surgery won't be an option. We already had to stretch the remaining sciatica nerve tissue as it is, so there is nothing left to work with."

Clarke sighed, partly in frustration partly in sorrow.

"Can't she get like, a nerve transplant or something?"

"There are other options to be explored, if the damage is extensive, which it might not be. I only want to warn you for the worst case scenario."

"Okay... well, thanks doc," Bellamy said dejectedly.

"Of course. A nurse will come out when Raven is ready to receive visitors once she is settled in the recovery wing."

Clarke nodded as the doctor retreated.

"Well shit," Bellamy cursed.

"Poor Raven. What did she ever do to deserve any of this? It's bullshit," Clarke spat, entirely fed up with the constant stream of bad news.

"She sure did get dealt a shit hand," Bellamy agreed, and the two of them sat there, scowling at the unfairness of it all for a moment before composing themselves and going to inform the others.

"Well, at least there's still hope. We don't know yet," Harper said, ever the optimist.

"Yeah. At least she's not paralyzed in both legs. Now _that _would really suck," Octavia added. She had a point, but her delivery could have been better.

"What time even is it?" Bellamy asked in an obvious attempt to change the topic.

"4:13 AM." Harper read the clock on the far wall.

Bellamy's jaw stretched in a yawn as he said, "Early bird gets the worm, I guess. I'll call the boys."

"Should we just let them sleep? I mean, Raven was in surgery for-" Clarke paused to count the hours, "-twelve hours. She's gotta be under some pretty heavy sedation, so she probably won't even wake up for three or four hours."

Bellamy shrugged. "Whatever you think."

Clarke nodded, looking at her roommates for their opinions. In agreement, they settled back down to wait some more.

"Is today Monday?" Clarke asked. The anomalous events of the past few days had really done a number on Clarke's sense of time.

"Uhm... I think so?" Harper sounded uncertain as well.

"Yeah, definitely Monday," Octavia confirmed. "Looks like I'm skipping Geometry, let's go!"

"No, O'. You can go to class if you feel up to it. It won't do Raven any good to have all of us crowding around her bed all day," Bellamy said sensibly.

Octavia scowled and fell back against the couch. "I'm not feeling well at all, Bell. I think the hospital is exactly where I need to be."

Bellamy scoffed at his sister and swatted her knee, so she drew her feet up onto the couch. "Get some sleep so you'll be fresh and ready for math."

Octavia groaned, but she did sprawl out on the sofa, laying her arm over her eyes to block out the lights.

Harper wandered off to use the restroom as Bellamy sat back down, this time beside Clarke on the couch rather than on the floor.

"Sorry I fell asleep," he said, almost sheepishly.

Clarke smiled at him. "You slept like a baby."

He tittered at her. "Couldn't help it. Who told you that was my weakness? Because Octavia was sworn to secrecy."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Clarke said sweetly.

Bellamy mumbled something under his breath and leaned back until his head thunked against the wall, his eyes closed.

"What was that?" Clarke asked.

"Wake me up when something interesting happens," Bellamy asked, stretching his arms up to cradle his neck in his hands.

As it turned out, Bellamy didn't even have the chance to fall asleep before something interesting happened. Harper returned from the bathroom just as a nurse in navy scrubs entered the waiting room and sought Clarke out.

She watched with growing anticipation as the woman approached them, standing to greet her.

"Goodmorning, are you Clarke Griffin?"

"Yes ma'am."

The lady smiled sweetly, her appearance matching her thick southern accent. "Alright honey, I can take two of you back to see your friend right now."

Clarke nodded, glancing back at Bellamy who had stood up beside her.

"You and Harper go. Octavia already fell back asleep, I'll stay with her," he offered.

Clarke nodded and Bellamy squeezed her shoulder before she followed the nurse with Harper.

"So, is Miss Reyes a friend of yours or?" The nurse asked, holding a door open for them.

"She's our roommate," Harper explained, still whispering even though they were in an empty hallway now. It felt unnatural to talk loudly while it was still dark out.

"Hmm, she's got good friends in the two of you."

Clarke and Harper shared a look and nodded, taking a left turn and going through another door, this one the nurse had to scan a badge reader in order to enter.

"Whenever you're ready, you can bring your other friends up here. We have another waiting room where you all can hang out."

She led them to a reception desk and made them each a visitor sticker which they pasted on their chests.

"Now, you need to keep those visible at all times. Miss Reyes is right in here, room 672."

Clarke shared one more reassuring look with Harper before they followed the nurse into the room. Even though Clarke was familiar with hospitals, and had been trying to prepare herself for the sight of Raven, her heart still leapt when she saw her friend laid out on the bed.

Harper gasped and clutched Clarke's hand, tears slipping from her eyes. Clarke was glad for her support, but maintained her composure, trying to be strong for Harper. This was her fault, afterall, so she shouldn't be the one sobbing.

"I know she looks rough, but she has been through an awful lot. The sedation caused a bit of swelling in her hands and feet, so that's the purpling you see. That should fade in a few hours." The nurse breezed around the bed, checking on the heart monitor.

"Now, we just removed her respirator, the breathing tube, so her lips are pretty chapped and when she wakes up, her throat is going to be sore, so try not to let her talk too much. You definitely should still talk to her, but just let her nod or shake her head until the inflammation goes down."

Clarke and Harper walked up to the bedside as the nurse spoke to them.

"The doctor has her in a lumbar brace right now, so that's this funny contraction here. She's obviously got her IV in, and for now, she also has a catheter." The nurse smoothed the blankets across Raven's body, which looked too small and fragile beneath the stark white of the sheets.

"I know she doesn't look like herself right now, but she's still your friend. Don't be afraid to talk to her," she kindly urged.

"Can she hear us?" Harper asked in a shaky voice as she ghosted her finger along Raven's arm.

"You know, they don't know for sure, but I'll tell you one thing." The nurse waited until they both looked up before she said, "Every single time the family and friends talk to the patient, they wake up faster and more alert than if they don't. I've been working here for 27 years and time and time again, same thing. I am confident they can hear you, even if they don't remember it."

Clarke smiled as Harper asked the nurse a few more questions.

Raven's normally tan skin was ashen and pale, almost as white as the pillow case. Her arms and hands were sallow where they weren't bruised, and her fingernails were crusted with blood. Her hair was matted around her head, also sporting dried crimson tips. There was tape residue under her eyes where her lids must have taped down during her procedure. Her lips were chapped and cracked, as were her nostrils around the oxygen cannula.

"Now, it's been crazy busy up here tonight, so I haven't had the chance to clean her up yet."

"We can do it," Harper immediately offered, and Clarke nodded. Raven deserved a nice wash up before anyone else saw her.

"Well right on!" The nurse said. "I was hoping you might say that. Here's a basin and some washcloths, and this soap will get the adhesive off..."

Clarke tuned out the nurse as she explained where they could find everything they needed and released Harper's hand for Raven's. Clarke cradled her friend's hand like it was as fragile as a baby bird, running her thumb along Raven's knuckles. Her skin was cool and clammy.

"Alrighty girls. I'll be right out at the desk if you need anything, okay?"

"Yes, thanks Linda," Harper said and the nurse disappeared, clicking the door shut behind her.

For a moment, both girls just stared at Raven, still in a sort of disbelieving shock. The whole thing had been easier to think about as more of a twisted dream, but with the scene laid out before them, that was no longer possible. Raven had been shot and she could have died. Now she was alive, but at what cost? She might never be able to walk again.

Harper cleared her throat "Okay, let me fill this up..."

Together, Harper and Clarke worked together to gently remove as much gore as possible form Raven. They scrubbed and trimmed her fingernails, washed the ends of her hair, cleared the adhesive residue from her face and her IV port, and freshened her up.

The whole process felt, to Clarke at least, like a small repayment. Raven wouldn't be in this situation if only Clarke had been strong enough to just tell her the truth from the beginning. Everything could have been prevented, and now Clarke was going to spend the rest of her life living with that knowledge, attempting to make it up to Raven.

Harper brushed out Raven's dark hair, arranging it on the pillow around her head.

"She looks more like herself," Clarke said, tucking the blankets into place around her.

"Definitely," Harper agreed. "I hope that made you feel better, Raven. I know that whenever I'm sick, I feel worlds better after I've had a shower. I know you're not exactly sick, and this was more like a bed bath than a shower, but the principle is the same."

Clarke liked that Harper was talking to Raven, because she didn't know if she could. What would she say? All she could do was apologize, but it would never be enough.

**AN_**

**Okay I'm just now realizing how depressing this story is right now. :( I totally promise it looks up in a little bit. Also, just wanted to keep you guys informed; I'm tentatively shooting for Chapter 40 to be the final chapter. Please let me know what you think length-wise for this story, and if you have anything you want to see resolved before the end. I think I'm getting most of my loose ends tied up, but I would appreciate the help.**

**As always, thanks for reading!**

**-Birch66724**


	34. Chapter 34

It wasn't until that evening, around twelve hours after Raven had gotten out of surgery, that she woke up.

People had been in and out of the hospital all day, and after Raven was moved from the ICU to a recovery suite, they had been camped out in her room. Between her roommates and Bellamy and the guys, she hadn't spent a moment alone.

Now, Bellamy was sitting in an uncomfortable straight backed chair in the corner while Clarke dozed in the recliner by Raven's bedside. The other guys had dispersed; Monty and Jasper had gone home with Harper so she could shower, while Murphy was at a late class and Miller had gone with Octavia to pick up something to eat.

It was the first time Bellamy had had an opportunity to be alone with Clarke all day, but it was also the first time that Clarke had gotten the opportunity to rest. So, while muted cable news scrolled across the grainy hospital TV and Raven's heart rate monitor steadily beeped, Bellamy watched Clarke.

She looked so peacefully now, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as she breathed easily, that it was almost possible to forget the horrors they had all experienced the last few days. Clarke's tranquility was contagious in nature, causing Bellamy to relax back into his seat as well.

It was from that position that he saw Raven's arm move beneath the blanket, her head tilt to the side and her eyes scrunch up before blinking open. She grunted softly, tugging against her IV as she tried to rub at her face.

Bellamy almost didn't want to jump up and stop her, because that would mean disrupting the newfound quietude that had settled over the room, but he couldn't just sit by and watch her hurt herself.

He rose from her seat and hurried to her side, softly shushing her.

"Take it easy, Raven," Bellamy said, lightly grabbing her by the wrist to restrain her arm.

Raven blinked up at him, her pupils struggling to dilate and he could see her mind racing a mile a minute to comprehend.

"Welcome to the waking world," he said, "We've missed you."

Raven opened her mouth, but her throat was still extremely hoarse from being intubated and all her words were a garbled jumble of harsh syllables.

"It's okay. Don't talk," Bellamy said, releasing her arm. He didn't exactly know what to do, so he was slightly relieved that Clarke had woken up and was leaning over the bed, peering into Raven's face as if she couldn't believe it.

"Oh, Raven," Clarke murmured, gently hugging her shoulders, careful of the tubes and wires and that weird brace contraption that was holding Raven's torso stationary.

Bellamy watched as Clarke fought to school her emotions for Raven's sake, as Raven's dark eyes darted around the room, looking confused.

Clarke held a cup of water to Raven's lips and murmured apologies while Bellamy watched. What exactly was one supposed to say to a friend who woke up in the hospital, potentially paralyzed, after being shot?

He settled on, "I'll go get the doctor."

Clarke nodded at him when he hesitated, telling him she'd be fine. Bellamy still felt bad leaving her alone to explain things to Raven, but he needed some air. Exiting the room, he took a right down the hall, towards the waiting room, instead of a left, towards the nurses station.

It was a surreal experience walking through a hospital, because even though it was the height of the evening, with meal trays being delivered to rooms and nurses and doctors bustling through the halls with IV poles and clipboards, the halls were very near silent. The recovery wing was a quiet place, no matter the time of day, and it made Bellamy edgy. As soon as he wasn't beside Clarke, his pulse quickened and he felt sweaty. He hated this hospital.

He walked a couple of quick laps around the small waiting room, then paused in front of the window. They were several floors up, so the view was actually quite nice. The sun was making its way towards the horizon, which was decorated with wispy clouds. A flock of small birds bustled past, swooping around the corner of the building. Below, cars drove by and tiny people walked along the sidewalks. Each of them having a place to be, a person to go home to.

Bellamy fidgeted in front of the window for a couple of minutes, then left to accomplish the task he had actually set out to do.

"Is Dr. Jackson around? Raven Reyes, room 672, woke up a few minutes ago," Bellamy said, leaning over the nurses desk.

The blond nurse looked back at him, unabashedly scanning his face before smiling in what Bellamy assumed was meant to be a seductive way. He stared back at her, face unchanged.

"The doctor is already in there."

"Thanks," Bellamy said dryly, pushing off the counter and hurrying back to room 672, feeling a bit irritated and guilty that he hadn't done what he'd said he would do. Oh well. It was just a couple of minutes.

"Okay, push against my hand," Dr. Jackson's voice could be heard from inside as Bellamy paused outside the door, not knowing if he should walk in with the doctor there, assessing Raven.

A moment later, the curtain rustled and Clarke poked her head out, then her hand, reaching for Bellamy. He wasn't going to refuse her, so he obliged and let himself be pulled into the room, sliding the curtain back into place as quietly as the metal track would allow.

"He's checking to see if-" Clarke whispered, staring at her friend.

"Oh."

"I didn't tell her, I just couldn't," Clarke murmured.

Bellamy felt pained as he looked at her drawn face, releasing her hand and instead wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him instantly, resting her head against his neck.

"Very good," Dr. Jackson remarked, taking a pen from the pocket of his white lab coat. "Now, I want you to close your eyes, and tell me when you can feel me touching your leg, okay?"

Raven nodded and did as he asked, lying still as the doctor started at the bottom of her left foot and slowly ran the pen up her bare leg.

He traced it along her ankle, her shin, her calf, then up over her knee, around the back of her thigh, all the way up to her bandaged hip. Bellamy felt his heart sink with each inch that Raven could no longer feel.

Dr. Jackson skipped over the white bandage, lifting up the edge of her hospital gown, and poked her in the side, right above where the bandage ended.

"There," Raven croaked, opening her eyes.

"Alright," Dr. Jackson said, nodding as he clicked the pen open and made note of something on his clipboard. Clarke turned her head into Bellamy, hiding her face in an attempt to conceal her expression from Raven.

Bellamy kept his face passive as he hugged Clarke closer. Raven looked over at the two of them, her brows creasing as she looked back to the doctor.

"That's not good, is it?" Her voice sounded like gravel and judging by the look on her face, it must have hurt like hell to speak.

Dr. Jackson looked up with a pitying smile. "I want to be honest with you Raven, okay?"

She nodded, and Clarke left Bellamy and sat on the edge of her bed, clutching her hand. Bellamy jammed his hands into his pockets and hung his head as the doctor spoke.

"As of right now, it would appear that you don't have feeling in your left leg. Your right leg, however, seems perfectly fine. That gives me hope that this damage could be temporary, and you could regain feeling as you continue to recover from your surgery. It was quite a trauma, and sometimes the nerves go into a state of unresponsiveness that they can come out of with time and physical therapy.

No one said anything for a moment.

"But it's not like the tissue is dying or anything? I mean, the leg is still fine, just unresponsive?" Clarke asked, her voice quivering only a little.

"Yes, that's how it looks. I wouldn't expect that to change. But, things can change quickly when it comes to nerve damage. You could regain feeling in a matter of minutes, or a matter of years, or you may never have feeling in your left leg."

Raven stared up at the ceiling as she took a deep breath, squeezing Clarke's hand.

"I'll give you some time to process everything. I'll be around if you have any more questions, just ask for me."

Clarke nodded as Dr. Jackson gave Raven's good leg a pat and left the room, brushing past Bellamy with a sympathetic smile.

The weight of the room was immense and Bellamy felt like his head might explode if the pressure wasn't released soon,

"Well, fuck me," Raven said, then started chuckling. The sound shattered the heaviness in the air like the window had been flung open, Clarke looked to Bellamy, but he cracked a grin too.

"Yeah, real shitshow I'd say," Bellamy said, joining Clarke at the bedside.

"Rapes my best friend then paralyzes me. Thanks a lot, Finn," Raven said cynically, raising her middle finger as if Finn could see it.

"Fuck you, Finn," Clarke said, raising her middle finger too.

Raven nodded at Bellamy, so he copied their gesture, flipping off that son of a bitch and the whole damn world.

* * *

Time went on, and for the next week, Bellamy spent his time in one of three places; class, Raven's hospital room, or traveling between the two.

It was exhausting, but necessary and Bellamy didn't complain. Instead, he joined Raven in urging Clarke to return to classes and go back to her dorm to sleep. By Wednesday, she was convinced and let Bellamy drive her in Raven's jeep back to campus, but as soon as her class was over, she gathered up several items of Raven's and hurried back to the hospital. Bellamy wasn't going to fight her, so he just helped her instead.

Raven hadn't made any progress thus far, which was disheartening to say the least. Other than the utter lack of sensation and mobility in her left leg, she was doing great. Her incision was healing up nicely, her throat and voice had returned to normal, and she had no other lasting effects from her surgery. That being said, they kept her in the hospital until Friday, when she had a reassessment by Dr. Jackson to discuss her _options. _

Both Raven and Bellamy hated that word: options. What option did she have, exactly? The leg didn't work, so either cut it off and '_upgrade to a newer model' _as Jasper put it, or drag it around in hopes that feeling would return. Neither _option _was great.

After the discouraging conversation with the doctor, Raven was set to be discharged the following afternoon, after a consultation with the prosthetist to talk about prosthetic limbs or supportive braces, depending on what option Raven chose to go with. She hadn't decided yet, but Bellamy hoped she wouldn't cut her leg off. She could walk on it… sort off. And if she had a good brace, it seemed like she could get around just fine. Plus, the leg would still be there if her nerves ever decided to spontaneously regenerate.

"Bye then," Bellamy waved to Octavia as she left after much urging from Raven. "Who is she going to see?" He asked, after his sister was gone.

"I dunno, Raven shrugged, scooting over as Clarke climbed into the hospital with her, pulling the tray table over the bed and plopping down her laptop.

Bellamy grumbled, feeling more irritated by the day about his agreement to back off from Octavia's personal life.

"Oh, what's wrong, grumpy pants?" Raven teased.

Bellamy shot her a look before shoving his own laptop off his lap and standing up. "My stupid English professor doesn't know how to respond to an email, that's what."

"Why don't you just ask one of your classmates?" Clarke suggested, intently typing on her keyboard. Bellamy was impressed how she could talk and type at the same time, but Clarke really never ceased to impress him, even with the most pointless of things.

"I don't know any of them," Bellamy said, only realizing that wasn't true as he said the words.

"Hmm. Just send someone a message from the class portal on the website."

Why did Clarke always know the answer to everything? "Oh yeah. Good idea."

Clarke flashed him a small smile before she and Raven started discussing what cheesy teen romance movie they were going to watch that night.

Bellamy tuned them out as he scrolled through the classlist tab on the portal. He hated the online class interface, but he had to use it to catch up for the days he had missed in the beginning of the week. All professors were supposed to post the day's assignments and due dates, but for whatever reason, Professor What's-His-Nuts of the English department decided he was too good for that.

He was beginning to doubt that Echo was her real name; he reached the bottom of the class list, with no sign of it. He scrolled back to the top with an irritated huff, and of course, that's when he saw it; Echo Azgeda. The list was organized alphabetically by last name, so hers was just a few from the top.

He clicked on her name and typed out a quick message asking for an explanation of Monday's assignment. As he clicked _send, _he couldn't help but feel a tinge of apprehension. He'd been blowing Echo off, and now he was the one reaching out to her. Granted, it was strictly school related, but she was bound to read more into it than that.

Her response came not even a minute later, while Bellamy was still mulling over his decision to contact her.

_Yeah sure. It's hard to explain over messages tho. Come over and I'll show you mine. Pioneer 328._

"Great," he muttered aloud.

"What was that?" Clarke asked.

"Nothin'," he grunted, standing up.

He felt Clarke watching him as he gathered up his things, stuffing them into his old backpack.

"Are you leaving?" she asked.

"Yeah, I guess. Someone offered to help me out."

"Oh okay. That's good!"

"Uh huh." Bellamy swung the bag over a shoulder, feeling like he should hug Clarke goodbye or something. He didn't though, just said, "I'll be back later, or I'll let you know what's up."

"Okay. Good luck then, Paris." Clarke flashed him a grin as she used her nickname for him. He snorted as left the room, overhearing Raven ask,

"Paris? What's that about? Are you keeping things from me?"

Bellamy rolled his eyes as he hurried down the hall, too impatient to wait for the elevator so he jogged down the stairs. The hospital still made him anxious and he wanted out.

He had been driving around Raven's Jeep for the past week, and he had to admit it was so nice to have a car. He'd never owned one in his life, so even though the Jeep was practically as old as he was, it was still a luxury.

The drive back to campus was quick and uneventful, as was the walk up to Echo's dorm. Pioneer was just across the street from Frontier, part of the U of M's infamous _Superblock. _It was larger than Frontier, but it was still a freshman hall, so it looked mostly the same and Bellamy found room 328 without issue.

He took a deep breath as he raised his hand to knock on the door, questioning why he had so readily agreed to this and not suggested that they meet in the library or even the common room of the hall.

"Hey stranger!" Echo pulled open the door, smiling.

"Hey."

"Come on in."

Bellamy glanced around, dropping his bag to the floor beside Echo's desk. "Nice place."

"Thanks. I haven't really decorated much, but my roommate is one of those minimalist people so it suits her just fine I guess."

"Hmm." The room was rather plain, but it was orderly, which surprised Bellamy. Echo seemed like the type of person to leave her clothes strewn all around the floor and have fifteen empty water bottles on her nightstand. The room was nearly spotless though, excluding her current study materials laid open on the desk and neatly made bed.

"Yeah, anyway. Want something to drink?" Echo asked, swinging open a mini fridge that was tucked between the bed and the nightstand. It had a bumper sticker that read _Ice Athletics _on the front.

"No thanks," Bellamy said, eyes widening at the wide array of alcoholic beverages jam packed in that tiny fridge.

"You sure? I have beer or-"

"No thanks. I'm good, really," Bellamy interrupted, not wanting to be sucked into drinking with Echo.

"Okay." Echo sounded a bit disappointed, but she slowly stood up, cracking open a can of some girly, fruity, fizzy drink.

"What's Ice Athletics?" Bellamy asked to change the topic.

Echo snorted. "The gym my brother owns. Or, sorry, _co-owns." _

"Nice."

"It's actually a pretty cool place. But don't tell him I said that!" Echo giggled, setting her drink down and thumbing through a notebook. "You should come by sometime, I'll show you around. You look like the type that works out."

Bellamy scoffed offhandedly, glancing down at himself. He used to have a whole workout regime, but it had been months since he had made any sort of effort to routinely make it to the gym. His almost obsessive routine of exercise and healthy eating plus working construction in the summers had left him in pretty good shape.

"Yeah, maybe sometime."

"Absolutely. Then maybe you'll be able to beat The Grounders tomorrow at the tournament?"

"The Grounders?" Bellamy spaced momentarily.

"You know, the dodgeball team? The one Roan's the captain of?"

"Oh yeah." Intramural dodgeball was the furthest thing from Bellamy's mind lately. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to think about normal things instead of being arrested and practically living out of the hospital and Clarke.

"Anyway, this English thing."

"Right, he didn't post anything on the portal. I'm so lost."

"Yeah, he's an idiot. But don't worry, I took detailed notes." Echo handed over the notebook opened to a page of color coded bullet-point notes written in neat, even handwriting. The letters were so uniform the page almost looked as if it had been typed up and printed out.

Bellamy was too busy looking at the writing to even read the thing. Yet another surprise about Echo. She really did seem like a ditzy college girl who didn't give two shits about the actual school aspect of college life.

She showed him her project, and helped pick a topic for his own, before sending him a template to work off of and even helping him with the beginnings of his research. For the majority of the time, she was chill and helpful, and Bellamy found himself not hating his time with her. She still rubbed him the wrong way a bit, but she wasn't bad company now that he actually made the effort to just be considerate and civil towards her. It made him feel like an ass about how he had treated her the other day when she had lunch with him.

"Look at that, you're nearly done," she said, taking a swig from her second can.

"Just have to finish up my MLA citations and get my third source, but yeah, that should be a breeze."

"Uh huh." Echo watched over his shoulder from where she was sitting beside him on her bed. Bellamy finished up his paragraph and clicked save on the document, done working on this project for tonight.

"Thanks for the help, Echo. I really appreciate it."

"Course. Why weren't you in class though? Is everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah." Bellamy leaned over to tuck his computer away. "Things just… got crazy over the weekend."

"Oooh, I see." Echo waggled her eyebrows, giggling as she knocked back the rest of her drink.

"No, not like that."

"O-kay, whatever you say."

Bellamy rolled his eyes, knowing Echo was envisioning him wasted, hooking up with random girls. Perhaps that was preferable to her envisioning him beating the snot out of some guy then being forced into the back of a police car.

"I should get going, but thanks again."

"Aww, really? You have plans tonight?" Echo followed him as he started towards the door.

"No, not really I guess." He scratched the back of his neck as Echo slid herself between him and the door, running one hand up his arm. He watched her thin fingers trace an outline of his bicep as he wondered what Clarke was up to. Their movie was probably over by now, so Raven was probably asleep, and Clarke had probably parked herself in Bellamy's corner chair to catch up on all of the classes she had missed.

"C'mon then. All we did was homework. Don't you want to do something _fun?" _

"What do you mean?" He played at being naive as Echo latched onto his wrist, tugging him back into the room.

"Well, my uber-conservative roommate is out at her church group on some camping trip or something, so we have the dorm to ourselves."

"Oh, so we could watch a movie at full volume?"

Echo rolled her eyes, putting another hand on Bellamy. "You're funny."

"Thanks, I try," he said. A moment later, Echo's lips were pressed to his, kissing him hotly.

Bellamy pulled back after a moment, feeling slightly dazed. Of course he knew this was what Echo's intention had been all along, but it was a little degrading. Not that she wasn't attractive, because she _definitely _was, but this wasn't right, was it?

"What's wrong?" Echo purred, sounding a bit hurt and a lot seductive.

"Nothin'. It's just, I've got a lot going on right now," Bellamy said.

"That's okay. This'll be the perfect way to take your mind off it then," she whispered in his ear, her lips brushing down his jawline.

Well, she wasn't wrong. And it had been an embarrassingly long time since Bellamy had had sex. On that thought, he hoisted her up and dropped her onto the bed, landing beside her. Echo didn't hesitate, and Bellamy didn't object.

It truly was an excellent distraction, but the second it was over, Bellamy was left with more stress than relief.

He would be lying if he said it wasn't Clarke on his mind while he was having sex with Echo. And that made him feel terrible on so many levels.

Even as a beautiful girl lay beside him, one bare leg swung over his own, his mind was a couple miles away, picture Clarke where she was probably dozing in the hospital recliner at Raven's bedside.

"That was fun, wasn't it?" Echo said in his ear, and suddenly, she was stifling.

"Yeah," he mumbled, moving to rise from the bed and find his clothes from where they had been thrown to the floor.

Every second he remained in this room, the feeling of betrayal and regret mounted until it was a practically unbearable pressure inside Bellamy's head, like a swarm of wasps ramming into his skull.

He could hear Echo talking to him as he slipped his shirt over his head and swung his backpack onto his shoulder, making for the door.

"Hey!" She grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. "What's the matter? Did I do something wrong?"

Bellamy sighed, rubbing his temple with his free hand. Not only had he made a mistake on his own part, but he'd also hurt this girl in the process. Echo didn't deserve to be treated like this, even if Bellamy did particularly like her,

"No, Echo. I'm sorry, but I shouldn't have done this."

She blinked at him, staring blankly for a second before she frowned, then scowled. "Now's when you tell me you have a girlfriend, huh? Wait until after you fuck me to warn me that some psychotic bitch with a metal spatula is going to break down my door, trying to kill me for sleeping with her boyfriend?"

"What? No. I don't have a girlfriend," Bellamy said, watching her tug her pants into place.

"Then what's the big deal?"

Bellamy opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. What was the problem? He was single, Echo was single, why couldn't they just have sex without Bellamy feeling like complete shit?

"Because I'm in love with someone else."

**AN_**

**Okay, I really want to know what you guys thought of this one. I don't know if I took it too far, but Bellamy had to come to his realization somehow. Poor Echo though. I really do like her, just not with Bellamy. :)**

**Thank you to my lovely beta reader, kyliEisMC2.**

**Thanks for reading and (hopefully) reviewing!**

**-Birch66724**


	35. Chapter 35

"Prison break!" Jasper yelled, throwing open the door and holding it as Harper pushed Raven outside in the hospital wheelchair.

"Woo!" Raven threw her head back, squinting into the sun, looking more than a little relieved to be outside the confining white walls of the hospital. The group cheered and whooped as they made their way through the parking lot, everyone caught up in the excitement of Raven's release and the hope of a return to some form of normalcy for them all.

Clarke followed behind, watching the scene like it was a movie and she was only a spectator. Of course she was overjoyed that Raven had gotten discharged after being fitted for a full leg brace earlier that day, but something felt a bit off. It was probably because Bellamy hadn't shown back up since he'd left the night before, to get help on his homework. He also hadn't replied to anyone's texts, and Raven's Jeep was MIA.

Because of that, they were all piled into Miller's minivan, Raven in the passenger seat with her leg extended, laughing at someone's joke as the wind streaming through the open windows tousled her hair. Clarke stared outside as they drove, squished against the side in the back row beside Octavia, watching the buildings blur by.

"What's up Clarke?" Octavia's voice jolted Clarke from her thoughts.

"Huh?"

"What up with you, Clarke? You've been quiet all day."

"Oh, nothing. Just tired," Clarke lied easily, offering a small smile to her friend.

Octavia looked skeptical before asking, "Are you worried about Bell?"

"Aren't you? He's _your _brother," Clarke shot back, knowing the defensive tone of her voice was as good as an admission of guilt.

Octavia scoffed. "That's exactly why I'm _not _worried about him. He's a big boy, pretty sure he can take care of himself."

"But he just upped and left! He was going to get help on his English paper and he just never came back! You don't find that the least bit worrisome?"

Octavia leaned her head back on the seat, looking utterly unbothered. "Look Clarke, he's a grown ass man who has unrestricted access to a car for the first time in his life. I'm sure he just went out joyriding or something."

Clarke turned away with a sigh, dissatisfied with Octavia's explanation but knowing she wouldn't get a different one if she kept pushing. That would only serve to flair Octavia's temper, which was the last thing anyone needed right now.

But Clarke was still worried about Bellamy, but more than anything, she was selfishly hurt by his actions. If he was purposely ignoring everyone, especially on the day that Raven got released from the hospital, then maybe he wasn't the man she thought he was.

It just wasn't consistent with the Bellamy she had grown to know over the past several weeks. If he wasn't blowing them off, then that meant something was wrong, and no one seemed interested in figuring out what that was.

A darker, self-loathing part of Clarke's mind forced cruel thoughts to the forefront. Maybe he had finally had enough of Clarke's clinginess and her dependency. Maybe he was tired of her, and now that the whole world knew her secret, and Finn had been apprehended, he felt free of the burden of being Clarke's confidant.

"Home sweet home!" Miller shouted, shutting off the van in the parking lot of Frontier Hall. The brick building looked squatier than it had previously. It was the shortest Hall of the four freshmen dorms that made up the U's _superblock_. It was however, teeming with students. There always seemed to be a gathering around the superblock. People flocked to the area to sit outside and study or play basketball or party in the evenings. If you ever wanted something to do, all you had to do was walk into the area and there was sure to be some pickup game of soccer or club meeting you could join if you felt so inclined.

"_Sweet home Alabama,_" Jasper started to sing as he got Raven's crutches from the trunk. It was starting to feel more like home, but less because of the building and more because of the people who lived in it.

Clarke listened to everyone banter as they hovered around Raven like she was a toddler about to take her first steps. In truth, Raven was already pretty capable of walking. With the aid of the crutches, she could get around, albeit a bit awkwardly, because her left leg just sort of dragged behind her. Now, with the new brace, she could walk fairly normally, although she had to keep pressure off her fresh incision site. With a bit of practice and physical therapy and more time to heal, the prosthetist told Raven she should have full mobility without crutches within a month or so. And, within an indeterminable amount of time, she should be able to walk with a barely noticeable limp once she built up the muscles necessary to move the bad leg.

All things considered, her prognosis was pretty good. It was hard to see her as lucky when her injury had the potential to be life long though.

Everyone squeezed into the elevator, and Clarke found herself longing for Bellamy's quiet steadiness amidst all the din and clamour. Jasper kept pulling Murphy's hood up, messing up his slicked back hair, and Murphy kept yanking it back off and smacking Jasper.

They piled off the elevator, Octavia giving Jasper a shove and sending him stumbling nearly into Raven. That earned the both of them a reprimanding comment and a frown. Clarke unlocked the door to her and Raven's dorm, which had gone vacant for the past week, and the guys dumped their hospital bags onto Clarke's bed.

"What's this?" Jasper pulled on a small white triangle sticking out from under Clarke's blanket. Before she could stop him, Jasper was holding up a large poster.

"Woah, this is amazing!" He exclaimed and Clarke hurried to snatch it back from him.

"What is it?" Everyone made their way over and Clarke had no choice but to reveal the special project she had spent the last several weeks working on. She had almost forgotten about it with all her time spent at the hospital lately, but it was nearly finished anyways.

"Well, I wanted to make you guys a better poster for your dodgeball thing so…" Clarke said, feeling sort of self-conscious now. Her art wasn't something she shared very often. In fact, she didn't even think some of them knew she liked to draw and paint.

She turned the poster for everyone to see, feeling a little bit gloomy that Bellamy wasn't there. He had almost discovered it when it was only half finished several weeks ago anyhow, and she hadn't let him see it then.

"You _drew _that?" Murphy seemed stupefied as he stared.

Clarke flushed. Murphy wasn't easy to impress and he was practically ogling.

"Yeah, but I used the picture that Harper took, so I didn't just make it up-"

"But you didn't trace it or anything? You _drew _it? With your _hand_?"

"Yeah," Clarke gave a half chuckle, lowering the poster to the bed so she could look at it herself.

The background was a sort of pastel maroon and gold with white borders. She had incorporated the boys original design of flaming dodgeballs in the corners, and written _The Delinquients _in bold black script across the top. She also listed each of the boys' names under the main feature of the poster: the drawing.

Harper had forwarded her the pictures she had taken that day of the first tournament, and Clarke had selected the best one; the only one where they were all looking in the general direction of the camera and making somewhat pleasant expressions.

Clarke looked down at the poster, to where she had carefully drawn Bellamy, with the goofy grin on his face, his arm slung over Miller's shoulders. She had spent several hours tracing out the faint lines of his face, his strong shoulders and all that curly hair. And now he wasn't even here to see it.

"We'll hang it up at the next tournament."

"Isn't it today?" Monty said, turning to Miller.

"Oh yeah…"

"No way I'm playing without Bellamy!" Jasper said quickly, whirling around to face the rest of the guys.

"Better track him down then, a no-show is a forfeit."

Octavia scoffed, flipping her glossy black hair over her shoulder. "Shouldn't have given him a car if you wanted to keep him around."

Raven narrowed her eyes. "He stole my Jeep?"

"No! He's just… I don't know! He gets like this sometimes, when he's fucked something up. He just disappears for a few days."

The room dissolved into loud voices and disagreements.

Clarke slipped quietly into the bathroom, locking the door and sitting on the closed toilet. She dialed Bellamy's number even though she knew he wasn't going to answer. Her knee bounced up and down as she listened to the phone ring.

"_You've reached the voicemail of _Bellamy Blake _please leave your message after the to-"_

Clarke clicked the end call button and clutched the phone to her chest, staring at the seam where the shower met the tile floor, and the dust that had collected there.

She could hear everyone else in the other room still talking loudly, but they must have settled their tempers and were now making jokes about how they were going to get killed at their tournament tonight without Bellamy.

"Remember that Lincoln guy? He is going to _annihilate _us!"

Maybe it was something to joke about, but Bellamy's sudden, unexplained absence made Clarke's chest churn with anxiety. She knew how quickly someone could disappear from your life, without even a chance to say goodbye.

"Clarke? You almost done in there?"

Clarke startled at the sound of a knock at the door. "Y-yeah, just a second!" she called back, standing from the toilet and wiping away a tear she had unknowingly shed. Thoughts of her father had invaded her already frazzled mind.

After a few more minutes, everyone dispersed back to their dorms, leaving with final well-wishes to Raven and assertions that they would be back later to check up on her.

The door shut behind Monty, and Clarke and Raven were alone together in their dorm for the first time in several weeks. The stillness and quietude of the room was unsettling after the last weeks of constant commotion and beeping and buzzing in the hospital.

For what felt like a long time, neither girl moved or spoke. They had had a couple of conversations in the hospital, when they had had a rare, conscious moment alone together, but nothing of the depth or magnitude required to broach the hefty topic of all that had transpired between them.

Clarke wasn't exactly dreading the inevitable conversation, but she certainly wasn't running towards it with open arms.

Raven, on the other hand, seemed to want to get it out of the way so they could move on from the whole event, as much as one could move on from a handicapping injury and a terrible breakup from your long term but suddenly deranged boyfriend. She said as much when she cleared her throat and started talking.

"Clarke, I am so, so sorry for what happened, and that I was too... _ignorant_ to see the signs that you were suffering, or too stupid to connect the dots and realize what had happened. Looking back on it now, all the pieces were right there. I just had to think a little bit and put them together and then this whole disaster-" she gestured down at her limp leg, "-could have been prevented."

"Don't say that Raven! You couldn't have know what was going on, and that was my fault for not speaking up- I should have-"

"Don't say that, Clarke! Of course you didn't want to speak up! And honestly, I don't blame you. Not at all. If you had told me the day after it had happened, I probably wouldn't have believed you." Raven lowered her head, ashamed.

"I know, but that makes sense. Of course your loyalties would lie with the guy you'd known forever, not the roommate you'd met a week ago."

Raven only shook her head, and when she lifted her chin, Clarke saw the tears glistening in her eyes. That was startling, to say the least. Raven hadn't cried, at least voluntarily, throughout her entire hospital stay. She had grit her teeth, shouted out a couple curse words, and bared it. Now, she looked so vulnerable sitting there, crumpled on her bed, injured leg hanging uselessly.

"Finn stopped being the guy I knew and loved months ago, Clarke," she said sadly. "I just didn't want to admit it, so I kept trying to make excuses. I was scared because I felt so alone, like I was losing my best friend, my only family, and I didn't know what to do. So I stayed with him, even after he-" Raven choked on her words and shook her head, sounding so defeated in that moment that Clarke's feet carried her without hesitation to her side. Raven crumpled into Clarke, shaking with sobs so fierce they could only be expressed as silent, open mouthed shudders.

Clarke held Raven, murmuring affirmations to her friend as she released all her pent up emotions in a torrent of tears and strangled cries. It was a sort of emotional purge that felt necessary in order to move forward.

It was a long time after Raven's weeping subsided before she spoke up. Clarke was so wrapped up in her own head that she didn't register the words until Raven said them a second time.

"How'd you deal with it?"

Clarke smiled softly as Raven sat upright and wiped at her tear streaked face.

"I wouldn't have been able to, if it wasn't for-"

"Bellamy," Raven finished for her. Clarke nodded, absently running her fingers across Raven's quilt.

"Oh God," Raven smacked herself in the forehead and flopped back, exasperated. "And then I teased you two, and he was just- I am the worst person alive, Clarke. I'm so sorry."

Clarke couldn't help but giggle a bit at the memories of Raven's teasing. "Don't worry about it. Bellamy got a kick out of it, at least."

"He did, didn't he?"

Clarke nodded, images of Bellamy's grinning face and sounds of his laugh and the feel of his hand in hers flickered through her mind. The sensations were so real and tangible, it seemed impossible that the man they belonged to wasn't by her side right now. It caused a pang in her chest that could be described as nothing but longing.

"But Clarke?"

"Hmm?" Clarke replied, barely listening.

"What I saw, I wasn't making it up."

"Huh? Making what up?" Clarke's eyes locked with Raven's as she sat back up.

"Bellamy. I was only teasing because what I saw was real. I noticed it every time you two were in the same room with each other. It's that sort of cheesy romantic shit they talk about in the movies."

Clarke tried not to let her cheeks flush as she listened to Raven. "What do you mean?"

Raven rolled her eyes as she reached out and shook Clarke, her eyes quickly drying up as she moved on to this new topic. "Don't be dumb, Clarke! I'm no romantic, but even I notice all these little smiles and lingering looks and the unnecessary touching. How you guys somehow always end up sitting next to one another, or how Bellamy smiles at every little thing you say. Clarke, that boy is hopelessly in love with you!"

For a second, Clarke was frozen, then she shot off the bed like a rocket, too stunned to even put forward embarrassment. If it was all as obvious as Raven said, then why did this come as such a shock to her?

"No, no way," Clarke quickly said. "There is no way he _loves _me. Half the time I've spent with him, I was crying on his shoulder. He'd have to be a real fool to have feelings for me, Raven. I'm a fucking mess."

"You're not, Clarke. And, well, no one understands the mystery of love." Raven smirked and folded her arms behind her head, reclining like she was about to watch a particularly interesting movie unflod before her.

"Oh, shut up. You sound like a Hallmark greeting card," Clarke snapped, but she was grinning like a damn fool, and she knew it.

"At least Hallmark got something right, then."

Clarke knew for certain that Raven was wrong about one thing; Bellamy didn't _love _her. He might have some kind of _feelings _towards her, but nothing close to the level of love. They hadn't known each other for all that long, and Clarke was pretty sure love was something that took time to grow. That being said, she didn't exactly have any experience with love. Sure, she loved her parents and extended family, but she'd really only ever had one boyfriend when she was in high school. And if _that _was what love felt like...well…

"So now the question is, do _you _love _him?" _

"Of course," Clarke answered without thought.

"_What?" _Raven shrieked and Clarke staggered backwards.

"Not like _that! _He's my best friend and he saved my life. I owe him so much."

"Yeah, sure. But I'm talking about a-" Raven made an insinuating gesture, "-kind of love."

Clarke wrinkled her nose and wanted to say no, because the way she felt for Bellamy was so much more than anything physical, but it would be a blatant lie to say no to Raven right now.

"Hmm, just as I thought," Raven said, looking smug.

"It's not like that though! Sure Bellamy is, well, he's good looking, but he's also such a great guy, he's got such a big heart and he cares so much and-"

"And you want to fuck him?"

"Raven!"

Raven cackled, clearly enjoying tormenting Clarke, who covered her face with her hands. Up until this point, Clarke hadn't really considered the possibility of being anything more than good friends with Bellamy, despite her obvious attraction to him. In Clarke's mind, she was already damaged goods and Bellamy was just trying to put her pieces back together. She thought he saw her as just that; a project to be worked on, something to correct. Not someone to love and pursue a relationship with.

"Oh, Clarke! To be young and in love!"

Clarke only groaned, surrendering and flopping down on Raven's bed. "I don't even know where he is now. What if he's gone forever?"

"He'd better not be. That's my damn Jeep he's in," Raven said, before realizing that Clarke was serious. "He's not gone, Clarke. He wouldn't leave, especially not without telling you and Octavia first."

"How do you know that?" Clarke mumbled miserably.

"Because he told me where he was going, before he left. He wanted to ask permission before taking my Jeep."

Clarke narrowed her eyes at Raven. "Why didn't you say?"

"He asked me not to," Raven shrugged, "He said he needed some time alone to think, and that he'd be back soon."

"Soon? How long is _soon?" _

"I dunno, but I told him it was fine, 'cause I'm not going to be driving anytime soon." She patted her bum leg like it was a disobedient dog.

Clarke didn't have anything to say. It stung that Bellamy would leave without telling her, and then to have Raven lie about it. But she couldn't be mad for too long, because Raven had come clean, and in the end she had only been doing what Bellamy asked her to.

"But, I think that if he knew what you felt-"

"If you tell him Ra-"

"I'm not! Jeez. _You're _going to tell him." Clarke looked at Raven, wary about what her roommate was going to say next. "He is at Arkadia State Park, he said something about how he was going to bring you there, but now wasn't the time. Anyways, that's all I know."

Clarke flashed back to the night after the Gopher's game, when they had been discussing the merits of cricket noises and Bellamy had promised to take her to a place where the sounds of nature overpowered those of the city. Arkadia State Park. That must have been the place.

"I think if you go out there, it'd clear up a lot of his doubts, if you know what I mean."

Clarke did, but what was she supposed to do? Wander out there and go, '_Hey Bellamy, just letting you know that I also have feelings for you, so don't doubt it.'? _

"How am I supposed to get there?"

Raven shrugged. "Miller's van?"

Clarke slung her coat over her arm and was out the door before she had really even figured out if she wanted to go.

"Get 'em girl!" Raven called after her.

* * *

Miller was a bit reluctant to let Clarke borrow the minivan. "Remember what happened last time, Clarke?"

"Yeah, but that was extenuating circumstances. Shouldn't happen again. I hope."

Miller frowned.

"Do you want him back for dodgeball tonight or not?" Clarke tried again.

"Yeah, yeah." Miller tossed her keys and asked her to be extra careful this time.

After Clarke looked up where Arkadia State Park was, she set out, driving stiffly out of the city. She tried to keep her full attention on the road, because if she let her thoughts wander too much, she was going to start thinking about things.

Her head started to clear as the buildings and bustling streets fell away behind her. It was refreshing to get out, if only for a little bit ,and Clarke immediately understood Bellamy's reasons for escape. She hadn't realized how tightly she had been holding the steering wheel until she relaxed back into the seat and rolled down the windows. The air had the beginning bite of winter on it, and carried the sweet scent of cut hay as she cruised past farm fields. The trees were changing into their fall colors, dropping red, yellow, and orange leaves on the highway where they were kicked up by cars and fluttered about in the breeze.

Soon, the landscape started to become more and more forested as she turned off the main road, onto a narrower gravel one. The van rumbled on, sending a cloud of dust behind it. Clarke pulled the van into a small grassy parking area that had a _Welcome to Arkadia State Park _sign, and Raven's Jeep situated in the far corner.

Clarke's heart leapt upon seeing the rusty old car, and she quickly put the van in park and got out, walking to the window. The Jeep was locked, and on the passenger's seat was Bellamy's phone.

"Idiot," Clarke muttered to herself, leaving the Jeep behind and following a path that opened into a picnic area with a shelter over some tables and a fire grate. Everything was deserted. The only sound was Clarke's feet on the leaf littered ground, crunching loudly in the still forest.

Across the clearing, there was a trail map and the standard _Leave No Trace _postings. It was sort of nostalgic for Clarke to see the brown message board with the carved yellow lettering. It was the same all the way back in Oregon, when she used to go camping with her dad.

Clarke wasn't exactly dressed for a strenuous hike, wearing only running shoes, leggings and a jacket, and according to the topographical map, the trails all had a decent bit of elevation to them.

For a minute or two, Clarke weighed her options. She could head into the park, unprepared, and maybe find Bellamy, or she could wait for him, or she could return back to campus empty handed.

There was really no decision, but Clarke wouldn't be Clarke if she didn't think everything through.

Starting up the trail, Clarke muttered, "Bellamy, if you actually want me to find you out here, you'd better send me some kind of sign."

Birds chirped and squirrels chattered as they leapt through the branches above Clarke's head. The path wound around into an old growth copse of red pines. Her footsteps were almost silent on the needle strewn path as she climbed the slight incline. The branches wove together, creating a natural roof where it was deeply shaded and quite chilly without the sunlight. After a few moments, Clarke's breath evened out and her mind stilled. Something about nature and solitude were sure to slow a person down and set them right.

Bellamy's sign came around the next corner, where the path leveled out at a fork and a trail map was posted.

The brown sign was carved with jagged trails and names, painted in with yellow. Branching off the Easternmost trail was a small line carved into the sign, not colored yellow. The wood beneath the carving was darkened with time and sloppily done. It had clearly been carved with a pen knife or some similarly inadequate carving tool, as the letters beside the added trail were all straight lines and harsh angles instead of curves and slopes.

Clarke smiled as she traced her finger over it.

_Bell Tower. _

The Eastern trail was easy enough to follow, but _Bell Tower _had only been marked on the first map, so once Clarke made it to the top of the trail, where it curved around the top of the river bluffs, she didn't exactly know where to go. Out of breath, she paused for a moment and took in the scenery before continuing on with a growing sense of urgency as she got nearer and nearer the marked spot on the map.

She scoured the edge of the trail, looking for a place where it would branch off; some disturbance in the undergrowth or bare path of earth. Clarke continued on, feeling discouraged as no sign came up. Who was to say Bellamy was even at this place? He could be anywhere in the park. Or he may not even be here at all.  
With a huff, Clarke stood up and planted her hands on her hips, frowning into the trees. Despite her discouraging thoughts, she was determined to find Bell Tower, even if Bellamy wasn't there anymore.

A few moments after she started back on the trail the way she had come, something metallic glinted in the corner of her vision. Stepping through the ferns, Clarke uncovered a Coors can. Holding it up, she could see years worth of dirt and sunlight had faded the aluminum. And Bellamy said he didn't even drink.

Tossing it down, her eyes alighted on an unnaturally straight row of scrub grasses. Following it, Clarke found a narrow path that looked more like a deer run than a hiking trail, but it was more of a lead than she'd had a few moments ago.

Hurrying along the path, Clarke's heart leapt at the prospect of finding Bellamy. The idea of him roughing it in the forest was rather enticing, and Clarke pictured him wearing a flannel shirt and three days worth of stubble, even though he hadn't yet been gone 24 hours.

The trail narrowed further, winding out towards an outcropping on the tip-top of the river bluff. Rounding a bend of thick spruce, Clarke stopped in her tracks and gasped at the stunning view. Having grown up near the mountains, she hadn't thought the measly river bluffs much of anything. But the view was something completely different than a mountaintop vista. It wasn't as high or grand, but it was stunning in a completely different way. The Mississippi River valley spread like a gorgeous painting below, rimmed with marshlands and trees. Autumn was in full swing here, and the trees were stunning, showing off all hues from pale yellow to ruby red, spotted throughout with rich greens from the pines. The afternoon sun cast everything in a golden glow, setting the trees near the base of the bluff aflame.

The rest of the world ceased to exist from up here and time slowed to a crawl. An eagle swooped low across the treetops, making for the water. It's feathers glinted maroon in the light as it swung back skyward, a wriggling fish clamped in its talons. The pines whispered in the wind, scenting it sweetly.

It took some time for Clarke to even remember her real reason for coming here, and when she did, she saw a rock spire on the edge, reaching up into an impossibly blue sky. It was an anomaly, left over from a time when glaciers plowed through these lands, with a flat top and strangely smooth sides. At the base were several items scattered around; evidence of an inhabitant.

Clarke squinted, but could not make Bellamy out. She started towards the spire, stepping through thick underbrush, dangerously close to the edge of the bluff.

She recognised Bellamy's backpack at the base of the cliff, along with a few of his clothes. There wasn't much there. Glancing up at the rock, she could see obvious hand and foot holds carved into the limestone and was overcome with the strong desire to climb up it, even with her improper footwear.

It was heart pounding and daring, but Clarke scaled the spire, her fingers sliding into worn grooves in the impressionable rock. Even though she couldn't possibly know for sure, it felt like Bellamy's hands had worn the rock over the years.

As her head peeked over the top, Clarke squinted into the sun, shielding her eyes and she pulled herself up.

"Clarke."

"Ahh!"

"Woah!"

Clarke reeled backwards at the sound of her name, nearly tipping off the edge until a hand clamped onto her forearm. The hand pulled her into its adjoining body and Clarke relaxed.

"Hey Princess," Bellamy murmured, hugging her close, tighter than he'd ever held her before. Clarke could feel every ridge and curve of his body against hers in the most intimate way, even though it was a completely platonic gesture. Or was it?

"Hi Paris." The words were muffled into Bellamy's shoulder and Clarke didn't want to pull away as her own breath warmed her cheeks.

"You want to know something?"

"What?"

"I was hoping you would come out here."

At that Clarke pulled back to see his face, but kept her hands on either side of his neck. She felt him swallow and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down twice. She had been right about the stubble, wrong about the flannel.

"Why's that?" Clarke breathed, feeling bold with her face inches from his.

Bellamy gave that little half smirk. "Because I need you."

Clarke's heart skipped a beat. Something about those three words was all she ever wanted to hear. _I need you. _Somehow, it seemed far more significant than if he had three other infamous words.

"I need you, too."

Bellamy collapsed Clarke back to his chest, dragging her practically into his lap. The strength of his grip made the breath whoosh from Clarke's lungs, but when she was this close to him, she hardly needed to breathe anyway.

Clarke could feel his lips on her neck, his breath in her hair. He was so close and still not close enough. Nothing else mattered at that moment, because Clarke was right where she felt safe, right where she belonged.

**AN_**

**Hi! I am so sorry, I meant to post this chapter last Friday but time got away from me. Here it is now, though!**

**I really hope you enjoyed this one, as it was a lot of fun to write. And we are SOOO close to the Bellarke moment we've all been patiently waiting for. Only a few more bumps in the metaphorical road. **

**Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, it means so much that you take time out of your busy lives to read my story and leave a kind word. You're amazing. :)**

**-Birch66724**


	36. Chapter 36

Bellamy couldn't seem to let Clarke go. The stone was digging into his back and she was short of breath, either from her climb or from his vice grip, he wasn't sure. He could feel her racing pulse in her neck, where he had buried his face. He wasn't exactly kissing her, but his lips were definitely on her skin, which was soft and sweet, hidden under her hair.

It had felt like some kind of divine sign when he saw her on the edge of the bluff, hiking through the thick brush and scanning the horizon with a hand shielding her eyes. He almost thought he had been hallucinating as he watched Clarke take in the view. She was just as awed as he knew she would be, and although this hadn't been his original plan on how to show her Bell Tower, it was probably better.

"So how'd you find me?" He whispered against her skin.

"You drew me a map," Clarke chuckled breathily, and Bellamy felt the sound more than he heard it. "What is this place, anyway?"

At that, Bellamy reluctantly pulled back with the intention to stand up, but got stuck staring at Clarke's eyes. How was it possible that he'd never realized how pretty they were until now?

Bellamy knew he'd been staring too long when Clarke blushed and slid off his lap, getting to her feet.

"Arkadia State Park," Bellamy said, joining her where she had walked to the edge of the rock spire. It made him nervous to see her so close, her toes sticking out over the ledge. The very thought of her slipping off and plummeting to her death made it hard to breathe.

"I knew that, dummy." Clarke reached over and whacked him, so Bellamy caught her wrist and clamped his hand down. It was strange how quickly he had grown protective over Clarke, although he sort of had been from the moment he met her. Only now, she seemed to mean so much more to him than a simple good samaritan project.

Clarke glanced down at his hand, at the cliff edge, then over the horizon. She wriggled her hand slightly so that Bellamy loosened his grip, enough for her to slide her hand into his and interlace their fingers. Bellamy watched her face as she watched the horizon. That small gesture was all he needed to know that she felt the same way about him as he did about her. That, and the little grin on her face that she couldn't seem to lose for the life of her.

"It's my secret spot in Arkadia State Park," Bellamy clarified.

"How secret can it be? You marked it on the map."

Bellamy chuckled. "I was young and dumb when I did that."

"How young?"

"Uh, probably fifteen? I dunno, I wanted to leave my mark on it, so I scratched it into the map."

Clarke giggled.

"What?"

"Oh nothing. I'm just imagining what you looked like at fifteen."

Bellamy guffawed and tugged Clarke around to face him, where she hid behind her other arm, laughing.

"Think that's funny, huh?" Bellamy teased, backing her up towards the edge.

"Bellamy! Bellamy!" Clarke hollered through her laughter, pushing back against him.

"I was a good looking kid, I promise."

"I bet you were!" Clarke said sarcastically, and Bellamy backed her a step closer. "Bellamy!" She shrieked, her tennis shoes scrabbling in the loose rock. She wrestled her hand out of his and resorted to wrapping her arms around his middle, hiding her face.

Now it was Bellamy's turn to laugh as he backed off the cliff, clutching Clarke close again.

"You dickhead!" She yelled, her face flushed. For a split second, he thought she was actually mad at him and his heart sunk, but then she slapped him and shook her head with an amused grin. "You're going to kill me."

"I would never hurt you, Clarke," Bellamy said, his tone switching serious in a split second. Clarke's face cleared and her eyes softened and he could see just how much that meant to her. He couldn't stand to live with himself if something he did ever hurt Clarke, he'd spent so much time trying to put her back together, not that she was broken, but she was in a rough patch of her life when they crossed paths.

"I know you wouldn't."

"Good. I'm here for you, Clarke."

She smiled and Bellamy knew that smile was just for him. Clarke didn't smile like that for anyone else. His chest swelled and the feelings he felt for this girl were so strong, it almost felt like he was going to burst. Never had he felt like this for a girl, but now instead of being scared of it, it bolstered his confidence, so he gave in to it.

He reached out and brushed a thumb along Clarke's cheek. Her skin was soft under his calloused fingers. Her eyes flickered uncertainly for a second before leaning into his touch. Bellamy knew she must see the intensity of his emotions playing over his face; they simply couldn't be internalized at this point.

Maybe that's what gave Clarke confidence to reach up and put her hands on his chest, to exhale and lean closer, to flutter her eyelashes closed.

Bellamy felt fourteen again, about to have his first kiss. Sweaty palms, tight chest, nerves tickling his stomach. Something told him this moment would be just as electric and world altering as his first.

Only, it didn't happen.

Just as Clarke's nose brushed his cheek and Bellamy closed his eyes, she pulled away. Her face left Bellamy's hand tingling and empty, like any icy wind had swept in to replace Clarke's warmth and light with a cold darkness.

Bellamy straightened, momentarily lost for words. Clarke quite literally took his breath away, but not in the way he had been expecting. This was the first Bellamy had ever been denied a kiss by a girl in his life, and it kind of felt like a slap to the face.

Uncertain what to say, Bellamy watched Clarke's back as she wrapped her arms around herself, as if suddenly cold. Maybe she felt it too, maybe she wanted Bellamy as much as he wanted her. But then, why would she pull away? Bellamy couldn't imagine a better place to share a romantic moment.

And then everything came rushing back in like a floodgate had been busted. Barely a month ago, Clarke had been assaulted. She was still reeling from that, and now Bellamy had swooped in like an overeager teenaged boy and brought all that back. That had to be it, and it left him feeling like the worst person on the planet. After Finn, of course.

"Oh Clarke," he breathed. "I'm sorry." He reached out a hand, wanting to pull her in and comfort her, only to remember that _he _was the reason she needed to be comforted. His arm flopped uselessly back to his side.

Clarke sniffled, her shoulders hunched. But then she took a deep breath, relaxed, and turned around.

Her big blue eyes were wet with unshed tears and her lips were forced into a tight smile. She reached out a hand which Bellamy readily fit into his, folding her fingers around his and stroking the back of her knuckles.

"Tell me how you found this place," she asked, leading him back to the edge of Bell Tower. Carefully, she lowered herself to the ground and sat on the edge, her feet dangling over. Bellamy, unwilling to release her, followed suit.

He wanted to say something about what had just transpired, but Clarke clearly didn't.

"It was a long time ago," he chuckled, gazing out at the blue ribbon that was the mighty Mississippi. "Want to hear the real story? Or the abridged version?"

"The real one, of course."

Bellamy squeezed Clarke's hand. "Well, I was twelve, and I had just gotten my first bike after I'd spent all summer mowing lawns and pulling weeds for the old ladies around the block. Anyway, I felt like- like I was unstoppable." Bellamy paused, remember one of the good memories of this childhood. "

It was fire engine red with little flames painted on the wheels. I even got one of those water bottle holders and felt so cool when I screwed it on there all by myself, using a real wrench and everything." The memory was still so fresh in his mind it felt like last week, not over a decade ago. "I taught myself how to ride it in the back alley, and then I was flying up and down the street like a maniac. It's a wonder I never broke my wrist. I felt like I was on top of the world, like I had all the freedom I could ever want and no one could get in my way."

Clarke chuckled.

"Picturing me at twelve now, too?"

She shook her head, but her cheeky grin told him all he needed to know.

"_Anyway. _I was mad at my mom for some reason, I don't even remember. That was back when we still lived in an apartment with her downtown. So, I packed up my school backpack with Ritz crackers and a blanket, and took off. I hadn't been farther than a few blocks from our apartment at that point. I really had no idea where I was going, but I remembered going on a school day trip to a park, Arkadia State Park, so I biked the direction I thought it was. Long story short, I got lost, ended up getting a ride from this old lady, who dropped a child off, alone, at a state park, at sunset."

"You biked out on that highway?" Clarke's concern was endearing.

"I don't even remember. I just remember I was so exhausted, I slept on a picnic table once I got here, and in the morning, I started wandering the trails. But I was too much of an idiot to try and follow the map, not that I could have read it anyways, so I set off on my own. Then one thing led to another, and here I was. I spent probably three hours thinking of a name for this place."

"Bell Tower is pretty clever," Clarke complimented.

Bellamy laughed and Clarke turned a questioning eye to him.

"I didn't come up with Bell Tower for a couple of years."

"What was it originally?"

Bellamy wrinkled his nose, feigning embarrassment. "Really want to know?"

Clarke turned to face him, pulling one leg up over the edge so it landed in Bellamy's lap. "Of course. Tell me!"

He rolled his eyes. "It's bad, I don't think you're interested."

"Bellamy Blake!"

"You sure?"

"Yes!" Clarke leaned forward, gripping his biceps and shaking him, her face eager instead of hurt now, and Bellamy knew he had succeeded at his one goal; to cheer Clarke back up.

He let out a long sigh just to make Clarke even more impatient. "I originally called it _Blake's Cake and Steak."_

Clarke furrowed her brow." What?"

"I told you it was bad."

"What does that even mean?"

Bellamy laughed, "Something contrived from the mind of a very hungry twelve-year-old with a limited vocabulary who thought you could open a restaurant on a clifftop."

"Oh, Bellamy." Clarke leaned against him, seeming to have no hard feelings about his attempt to kiss her a minute ago. "It would be a good place for a restaurant. It'd have the most beautiful view."

"You're right, it sure would. But a building would sort of ruin it, you know?"

"Mhmm. Leave nature natural," Clarke agreed.

Bellamy sighed and contemplated wrapping an arm around Clarke's waist. Her shoulders? Then decided not to press his luck and leaned back on his hands, planting them firmly on the rock to hold himself and Clarke up.

The cicadas were starting up their evening song in the trees as the sun traveled towards the Western horizon. The landscape was truly gorgeous and it made Bellamy feel almost guilty that he hadn't taken the time lately to stop and appreciate the beauty of the world around him. He'd been so busy lately, but, well, he had been appreciating one beautiful thing in his life…

"Hey Bellamy?"

"Yeah Princess?"

Neither of them moved as Clarke paused before speaking again. "I just want to say I'm sorry. For pulling away from you. That probably hurt, but I didn't mean it to, I was just-"

"No, that was my fault. I came at you with no warning and that probably-"

At that, Clarke did sit up and interrupt. "No warning? I'd be a blind fool to say you gave me no warning."

Now Bellamy was confused, so he kept his mouth shut. He could see the wheels turning in behind Clarke's eyes as she looked just to the right of his head, trying to find her words.

"I wasn't _scared _of you, if that's what you think!" She suddenly burst out, looking almost offended that that had been his conclusion. "Bellamy, you are the one person I have never _ever _been scared of in my life. You make me feel safe, safer than even before any of-" she gestured in the air, insinuated her assault, "-this happened."

Those words made Bellamy's stomach warm. "Really?"

"Yes, really, you big dummy_. _You're pretty much the best person I know."

That was high praise that left Bellamy speechless for a second time, so he just grinned and Clarke scoffed fondly. She reached out and ruffled his hair, which made Bellamy groan and Clarke chuckle.

"You're a dog, Bellamy Blake!"

Bellamy's only response was to lean more into Clarke's touch. Her hands on him ignited something, something was only growing each day he spent with her. But if Clarke wasn't ready to do anything except play with his hair, that would be enough. At least, that's what Bellamy told himself as he struggled not to let his mind wander.

After a moment of sitting with his thoughts raging against the inside of his head, Bellamy had to ask, because not knowing was going to be worse than anything Clarke could say. "Why did you pull away, then?"

Her hand stilled before slowly sliding away. Bellamy looked at her, watching as her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. Bellamy considered himself a patient man, but waiting for Clarke's reply tested him.

"I-" she started, then shook her head. A single tear snuck out the corner of her eyes and she swiped it away before it could leave a trail down her cheek.

Bellamy looked out over the vibrant autumn deciduous trees that blanketed the river bluffs. Clarke's reply almost got lost in their whispering leaves.

"I don't deserve you, Bellamy."

Well, that was the most outrageous thing he'd ever heard. So much so, he almost burst out laughing before he took another glance at Clarke's face. She looked at him with a kind of resigned longing, her eyes huge and swimming with tears she refused to let fall.

"Clarke, you deserve the world," Bellamy whispered.

She smiled softly, and this time, when the tears slipped out of her eyes, she let them fall, keeping her hands knitted in her lap. The setting sun made her hair glow golden and she looked like a literal fucking angel.

Bellamy couldn't keep his hands from reaching out to her, but when he grasped her shoulders, she stiffened and looked away. Bellamy dropped back like he had been struck.

"Why do you think that?"

Clarke looked at him like he was stupid. She waited, as if the answer should have occurred to him by now, but when she saw it hadn't she took a shaky breath and said, "Because you are amazing, Bellamy. You are sweet and compassionate and kind and gentle and honest and _good. _You have the biggest heart and this- I don't know. You somehow always seem to do the right thing, even if no one knows it was the right thing until after the fact. You are simply the best person I have ever met."

Bellamy watched her eyes soften and her hand came up and grazed his cheek, but dropped away as she turned towards the ground.

"And I'm a fuckin' wreck. I can't-"

Bellamy was _not _about to listen to Clarke talk down about herself, cutting her off before she even got started.

"Clarke, _you _are the best person _I _have ever met. You are so strong and brave. You're loyal and smart and funny and sarcastic in the best way. You are a literal Princess. A badass one, so don't think for a second that you don't deserve something, because Clarke, you've got it backwards. The world doesn't deserve _you._"

She softened under his words, but wouldn't meet his gaze. Her fingers fidgeted with pebbles on the ground as her breath came shakily.

"Clarke, look at me," Bellamy gently pleaded. He needed her to know the truth, he needed her to know that if anyone was undeserving, it was _him. _

After a long moment, she looked up, but kept her head down. Bellamy reached out and cupped her face, and much to his relief, she didn't pull away or flinch.

Ever so slowly, he leaned down and kissed a tear off her cheek before pulling back. He lowered his forehead to touch hers and closed his eyes, matching his breathing to hers. Clarke's nose brushed against his for the second time today, but this time, Bellamy didn't move. It was enough to be close to her right now, to have her understand that he truly was here for her. That he would never push anything on her, that he was patient and understanding, and _good, _just like she had said he was.

He was so focused on the feel of Clarke's hairline under his fingertips and the steady slowing rhythm of her breathing that her lips took him by surprise. Luckily, he had enough sense not to pull away, but rather let her kiss him, let her take the lead.

Clarke's lips were featherlight for a moment, just barely brushing against Bellamy's. Her breathing stopped altogether as she pressed a little harder, turning her head to achieve a better angle, and a feeling that made Bellamy's toes tingle in a way they hadn't before.

Her hand reached around the back of his neck, pulling him close, tilting his head just the way she wanted it while her fingers played with the little hairs at the nape of his neck.

Bellamy didn't do anything that Clarke didn't ask for. She kept the kiss chaste, close mouthed but insistent. Only when she snaked her fingers up the back of his head did Bellamy make a noise. His mouth opened and Clarke pulled away slightly, giggling ever so softly.

Bellamy opened his eyes to see her sweet face, tear streaked but smiling. He brushed his thumb along her cheekbone, knowing full well he was grinning like a fool.

"You know how I am with the hair," he whispered, afraid to fracture the moment.

"I do," Clarke whispered back. "That's why I did it."

Bellamy chuckled. His body was electric, tingling and wanting for more, but luckily had self control and morals, so he kept himself in check. A simple kiss from Clarke did more to him than sex with Echo had done. That thought was both terrifying and thrilling.

"Hey Bellamy?" Clarke asked.

He slid his eyes back open, not even knowing when they had closed. "Yeah?"

"I'm happy," she said simply. The light struck her eyes horizontally, changing then from blue to a flashing silver.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Me too," Bellamy agreed, wondering if they could stay here forever.

* * *

Clarke was reeling, yet somehow managing to stand perfectly still and meet Bellamy's gaze. Looking at his face wasn't really that hard, because, come on, he was adorably gorgeous right now.

She'd really just gone from rejecting his advance, to crying, to kissing him, and the man still looked over the moon. Where on Earth had such an understanding person come from, because Clarke couldn't fathom it.

That brought back her original reason for distress, that Bellamy was far too good for her. He deserved a girl that could be just as great as him, he deserved someone who made him feel just as special as he made Clarke feel.

With that thought, Clarke looked away and stepped back, taking her hands from Bellamy and sliding them into her back pockets.

"The guys were counting on you for the dodgeball game tonight," she offered feebly. It was a lame excuse to break the moment and Bellamy knew it right away.

He groaned exasperatedly and rolled his eyes. "It's intramural dodgeball, Princess. They'll get over it."

Clarke eyed him as he leaned back towards her and her constitution crumbled. It was going to become a battle of who was more stubborn, and Clarke honestly didn't know who would come out on top.

She paced a step back, cognizant of the edge of the tower. "I dunno. That was the original reason I came out here; to bring you back in time for the game."

"Okay, but was that the only reason?" Bellamy asked, filling in the space she had vacated and then some. He had to know how intoxicating his closeness was to her.

"Well I-" Clarke started, but Bellamy's hands on her jaw made her words dry up in her throat. Clarke had, afterall, been taught that lying was wrong, so the next word out of her mouth was guilt free. "No."

"I didn't think so." Bellamy breathed the words onto her lips before kissing her again.

You never knew someone was a bad kisser, until you had been kissed by a _good _kisser. And Bellamy was just that. He maintained the perfect amount of pressure and the right angle, matching Clarke precisely, and above all else, didn't do anything that Clarke didn't want. She kept her mouth closed, for the most part, so Bellamy did too. She didn't touch anything other than his face and neck, so he didn't either.

His touch and closeness made all else slip from Clarke's mind as he became her only focus. But really, what else could take precedent over Bellamy?

"Still want to go to the dodgeball game?" Bellamy asked, pulling back.

_Obviously not, _Clarke felt like saying, but didn't. "We should. Well, _you _should."

Bellamy groaned again and Clarke had to believe it was because he'd miss the time with her. She knew he loved playing that game with his friends, even if they spent half of the time preventing Murphy from committing murder, or trying to get Jasper to actually throw a ball.

"I know I _should," _Bellamy agreed, "But I'd _rather _not."

Now it was Clarke''s turn to be coy. "Yeah? What would you do instead?"

Bellamy grinned playfully and tugged Clarke back towards him. However, before he could kiss her again, Clarke leaned her head back.

Bellamy shot her such a dirty look she had to laugh. "I only kiss dodgeball champions!" She explained primly.

"God, you'll never kiss me again then! Do you even know the team I have to work with?"

"Oh, they're not that bad! You guys almost won that one torment a few weeks ago."

Bellamy nodded, shifting from jovial to thoughtful at her words. "That feels like a lifetime ago."

"It does," Clarke agreed. "Really, it was only one football game, a pregnancy scare, a few gunshots, jail time and a hike in the woods ago."

Bellamy scoffed and rolled his eyes. "It was hardly jail time."

"Eh, we'll see what your background check shows next time you apply for a job."

"That'll be fun," Bellamy muttered.

Together, they climbed down Bell Tower and collected Bellamy's things which were heaped haphazardly around the base of the rock formation. Clarke carried his backpack while he bushwhacked them a new trail through the undergrowth to join up with the pre-existing trail that would lead them back down to where they had parked their vehicles.

"I just want to say that I'm glad you came out here, Clarke."

"Yeah?" Clarke smiled at him and he almost looked a little bashful, which Clarke found adorable. "I'm glad I came out here, too."

Bellamy dropped back to walk beside her and took her hand. The gesture already felt so natural and domestic that Clarke had to marvel at it. The simplest things made all the difference.

"And Clarke? If you ever say that you don't deserve me, I'll be royally pissed. I don't like liars."

Clarke couldn't reply, so she just squeezed his hand tighter.

The rest of the hike down the bluff was spent in companionable quiet, listening to the sounds of the forest and the dull thumps of their shoes on the trail. It was reminiscent of the times that Clarke used to hike the foothills around her childhood home with her father. The nostalgic memories and the warm feel of Bellamy's hand in hers made her calm in a way that had been missing from her life for months.

The peace of the moment was shattered by Clarke's phone. It started ringing in her back pocket just as the Jeep came into sight.

Clarke groaned, digging it out.

"Who's that?" Bellamy asked.

Clarke frowned. "It's my mom." As tempted as she was to ignore the call, her finger hovered over the green accept button. "I haven't talked to her in over a week."

"Go right ahead! I'll meet you back at the dorm, okay?"

"Yeah, bye Paris," Clarke smiled at him as he dropped her hand and moved towards Raven's Jeep.

Clarke accepted the call on the last ring, realizing that she had never told her mom about the shooting or any of the preceding events. Then again, her mom had never asked.

"Hey mom," Clarke greeted.

"_Clarke! Hi! Finally got a chance to call you today."_ Abby's voice was competing with a steady hum of background noise, making it obvious to Clarke that she was calling from somewhere inside the hospital.

"Busy day?" Clarke asked, leaning against the minivan, watching Bellamy get into the Jeep and roll down the windows.

"_You could say that,"_ Abby chuckled, "_I got pulled into back to back appendectomies, I haven't slept in over 25 hours."_

"Jesus, is that even safe?" Clarke asked, only half listening. She had had the tendency to tune out her mother's talk of medical jargon since a young age, even though she was interested in the field herself.

"_Eh, caffeine works wonders. But how about you? Living that college dream?"_

"You could say that," Clarke said absently, watching Bellamy as he smirked at her, turning up the radio on some obscene rap station so that the Jeep quite literally shook on it's chassis.

"_Good, good! Enjoy the first four years, because medical school and residency… well, just enjoy the easy years."_

"Thanks Mom. Looking forward to it already," Clarke said dryly.

"_Oh, I don't mean it like that. It's just different, is all. You have to work a lot harder and well… I'm not making it sound any better, am I?" _

"No. You are not."

"_Don't worry about it right now. But hey, I wanted to call you because I saw on the news when I was walking through the waiting room that there was a shooting in Minneapolis of a U of M student. I figured I would have gotten called if it was you,"_ Abby chuckled.

Clarke smiled sadly at the ground. Her mom didn't want to call her just to check in and chat, she wanted to call because her daughter _maybe _got shot.

"No, it wasn't me, Mom," Clarke said.

"That's good. You don't know who it was, do you?" Abby asked.

"Yeah, I do, actually."

"_Really, who- Oh just a second_." The phone was muffled as Abby must have pressed it to her chest as she spoke to a colleague, her words still coming through the phone.

Clarke watched Bellamy flip through the missed messages on his phone while she waited to continue her conversation with her mother. He made a variety of funny faces as he read them, unaware of Clarke's eyes on him.

"_Sorry about that, Clarke. What were you saying?"_

"Uhm, oh! That it was my roommate who got shot. She just got out of the hospital this morning," Clarke said offhandedly, because she was growing a bit impatient with this conversation and wanted to see what her mother's reaction would be.

"_Really? Oh my God! Are you okay, Clarke? Where was she shot? Did she have surgery?"_

Clarke was pleasantly surprised by her mom's answer. She had asked about her daughter's well-being before launching into the medical side of things.

"I'm fine," Clarke said simply, not planning on telling her mother that she was present at the time of the shooting, nor that she was the indirect cause. "Raven was shot in the lower back, and yes, she did have surgery."

"Raven? Who's Rav- Oh! Your roommate Raven! Wow. That's really something. Is she paralised?"

Bellamy looked at Clarke and made a curious face.

"No, well, not completely. She had nerve damage, but they think it could regenerate eventually."

"_Incredible. You should ask her if she would be willing to share her medical records, I would love to see them." _

"Yeah, maybe."

"_Well okay, I have to get back to work, but good to talk to you, Clarke."_

"You too Mom. Get some sleep."

"_Ah, later! Bye now!"_

The line clicked off.

"By Mom," Clarke said to no one. Somehow, her mother always left her feeling disappointed. There was never an _I love you _to finish a phone call, nor a promise to call back soon. Clarke didn't know why she let it bother her anymore, because she wasn't expecting her mom to change. They had never been close, and probably never would be.

Even so, when the phone rang again a few seconds later, Clarke hoped her mother was calling to give her a proper goodbye.

"Yes?" Clarke answered.

"_I'm so busy today, I forget to tell you the whole reason I called."_

"What's that?"

"_Well, of course you know Dr. Jaha, and his son, Wells." _

Clarke frowned, that was a name she hadn't heard in a few years. "Yes?"

"_Jaha accepted a teaching position at the University of Minnesota, and Wells was having a hard time fitting in at Oregon State University, so he is going to transfer to the U of M when his dad moves."_

"Really?"

"_Yes, really. Don't sound so happy,_" Abby said sarcastically. "_You and Wells were so close, I don't understand what happened between you two. Anyways, I told Wells you would be happy to show him around. He'll have a tough time switching schools mid-semester and I'm sure a familiar face will go a long way."_

"Yeah, he sure will have a hard time. Seems like a pretty stupid thing to do, if you ask me."

"_Clarke!"_ Abby scolded. "_I told Wells that you would call him sometime in the next couple of days. He's supposed to move in on the last weekend of the month."_

"Huh," Clarke said, unsure what to make of the news.

"_Alright, now I really have to go. Bye Clarke."_

The line turned dead for a second time, but Clarke didn't feel disheartened this time. She was too uneasy over the news her mother had just delivered.

Bellamy turned down the radio and called, "Why d'you look like your family cat just died?"

Clarke didn't respond.

"Oh shit, did your cat actually die?"

At least Bellamy could make her smile. "No, my mom hates cats."

"What is it then? The dog?"

"My high school boyfriend is transferring here at the end of the month, and my mom is trying to set us up again."

**AN_**

**AHHH! They finally kissed! Aren't they just the cutest? I really hope everyone likes this chapter, but this isn't Bellamy and Clarke's happy ending just yet...**

**That being said, I have been procrastinating writing the final chapter of this story for about two months now. Maybe I don't want it to be over, or maybe I'm just a procrastinator... the world may never know. But chapter 40 will be the final 'official' chapter of Here For You. I'm still toying with the idea of an epilogue, but that's up in the air right now. You'll have to wait and see, I guess. :)**

**Thank you so so much for reading!**

**-Birch66724**


	37. Chapter 37

_High school boyfriend._

The words bounced around Bellamy's head as he trailed Clarke back to campus. She dropped that bombshell of a comment before hopping back into Miller's van and driving off. Apparently she wasn't interested in discussing the topic any further, which left Bellamy uneasy. Just when he had finally, _finally, _kissed Clarke, something like this had to come up.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary as he drove, scowling at the dented back bumper of the van, tuning out the sound of the radio.

_High school boyfriend. _

Maybe that was some kind of code word? Clarke really hadn't sounded too thrilled over the phone with her mom, but Bellamy had only been partially listening to her half of the conversation. Or maybe it just wasn't a big deal at all, and Bellamy was blowing this way out of proportion. That was probably it, but Bellamy wasn't going to take any matter concerning Clarke lightly.

He was so wrapped up in his own head that he nearly ended up giving the van another dent when Clarke came to an abrupt stop at a red light.

"Jesus," he cursed, smacking his palm on the steering wheel and cringing as the Jeep's brakes made a grisly grating sound. For some reason, Raven was in love with the old pile of rusted steel, even if it was a piece of shit. Bellamy really didn't want to be the reason the thing got totally ruined, so he tried to refocus on driving when the light switched green. Watching the edge of Clarke's head though the back window seemed to help, so Bellamy focused on her. Something about that girl could bring him right back down to Earth.

The Jeep hissed like a gasket had blown when Bellamy turned the key out of the ignition in the parking lot back at home, so he got out quickly and walked away, pretending like he hadn't heard the sound.

Clarke was waiting for him a few parking stalls up where she had situated Miller's van.

She didn't seem to have anything to say as they walked up to the building, and Bellamy didn't either. Clarke didn't seem to be as tense as Bellamy was though, walking lightly and fiddling with the keychain attached to Miller's fob.

Just as Bellamy was about to broach the quiet, the front door of the Hall burst open and Murphy and Jasper fumbled out.

"Christ, you're going to make us forfeit!"

"Yeah, the tournament starts in like, fifteen minutes!" Jasper said, inaptly exasperated.

Bellamy rolled his eyes at his teammates. "Yeah, yeah. Lucky I showed up at all."

"What? You were going to throw us to the wolves?" Jasper cried, latching onto Bellamy's arm as he pushed past him to get through the door.

"More like throw us to the Grounders," Murphy grunted.

"Do we have to play them again today?" Jasper bemoaned, hanging on to Bellamy despite the fact that he was now being drug across the entryway of Frontier Hall.

"I don't know!" Bellamy snapped, shoving Jasper off. "Just give me a fuckin' second!"

Jasper sobered up so quickly that it made Bellamy regret his harsh words. The guilt increased tenfold when he met Clarke's deprecatory gaze from the doorway.

"Sorry," Bellamy mumbled, turning away from them and jogging up the stairs without another word. He wasn't himself right now, and it took him an embarrassingly long time to pinpoint the exact thing that was rubbing him the wrong way.

He had had quite literally one of the best afternoons of his life, up until that phone call from Clarke's mother.

_High school boyfriend. _

God damnit.

When did he become such a jealous person? Bellamy grumbled, yanking open the door to his dorm room, more than a little relieved to find it quiet and empty. He slammed the door shut and paced once, twice, across the room.

That wasn't the only thing making him irritated though. Bellamy realized that in fact, it was more his guilt over what he had done with Echo than Clarke's announcement of an old boyfriend. If this random guy was enough to make Bellamy jealous enough to lash out at his friends, then how hurt would Clarke be when she found out that Bellamy had slept with another girl?

With an irritated sigh, he plopped heavily onto the edge of his bed and raked his fingers through his hair. When it came to Clarke, his previous temperament was thrown out the window. That girl did something to him that he simply didn't understand, something so strong, it made him irrationally anxious and jealous of a guy he had never even met. It made him reconsider his morals and think about Clarke's feelings before his own. He felt himself going around and around in circles in his head.

"Get a grip man," Bellamy muttered to himself before standing up and quickly changing into an old high school homecoming t-shirt that he had cut into a muscle shirt and a pair of basketball shorts.

Just as he was heading towards the door, a knock came from the other side. There was only one person he wanted to be on the other side, and something told him that it wasn't her. He swallowed down his resurfacing irritation, ready to meet the wide-eyed gaze of Jasper or Monty.

Opening the door, he found his sister frowning at him.

She stared for a moment before pushing him back into the room and shutting the door behind herself. Octavia opened her mouth to say something, but paused and narrowed her eyes at him, appraising his expression.

"Don't look at me like that," Bellamy grunted, turning away.

Octavia scoffed. "What'd you do this time?"

"Nothing!"

"Yeah right," Octavia paused.

A silence hung in the room as Bellamy busied himself with tidying up his desk, where he had various papers and pens scattered about from the last time he had bothered to study. To be honest, school had been the furthest thing from his mind the last few weeks.

Finally, Octavia's scowling face was unavoidable, so Bellamy turned towards his sister, waiting for her to say her peace.

"It's Clarke, isn't?"

"_What's _Clarke?" Bellamy asked, although he knew.

"You." Octavia waved her hand at him. "She's got you all messed up, huh?"

She wasn't wrong… but Bellamy wasn't about to admit that. "I don't know what you mean by that."

Octavia scoffed. "Yeah, okay sure. I'll just pretend you haven't turned into some broody teenage boy then." Bellamy only glared, so she continued. "You know? I was always glad you were five years older than me in highschool, so you couldn't date my friends."

"Oh give me a break, Octavia."

"No! I mean it, Bell! She's all -" Octavia gestured with her hand, trying to get her point across without actually having to say the words. When Bellamy raised a brow to spur her on, she grumbled and spit out, "- fucked up Bellamy! I mean, c'mon! God knows we've never been around the greatest people, but somehow you just seem drawn to them, like you can fix them or something. I don't know why you think you have to be everyone's savior. You're like a moth drawn to the flame, except the flame is emotionally screwed up people."

Bellamy, quite shocked by Octavia's outburst and committed to defending Clarke's honor, didn't hesitate to snap back at her. "Jesus Christ Octavia! I - she's your roommate and you're going around shitting on her? What kind of friend are you?"

That seemed to shock Octavia enough that her mouth snapped closed, and obstinate fire burning her eyes.

If there was one thing Bellamy knew about his sister, it was that she was never one to back down from an argument. It was something that often put them at odds before Bellamy learned that he was never going to win a battle of wills against his sister, no matter how stubborn he was himself.

"Remember how hard you tried to fix Mom?" Octavia said, her voice deadly calm.

Bellamy glared, refusing to reply.

"Bellamy, I don't think you slept for a year. You spent every spare second chasing after her, getting yourself into fights you couldn't win with drug addicts and God knows who else. It nearly killed you! And after all that effort, where did she end up?"

Bellamy tried not to show on his face how much Octavia's words were biting into him. Everything she said was true, which only served to make it hurt worse.

"Where is she now, huh Bellamy?" Octavia pressed.

He still wouldn't reply, only stubbornly glared at her.

"She's in prison, Bellamy! You couldn't save her, no matter how hard you tried!"

"So you're saying I can't _save _Clarke either? Whatever that means."

"No, I'm saying you get too wrapped up in someone just to have them ruin their own lives. You're a fixer, Bellamy. You want to fix people, but sometimes you can't."

"What the fuck does that mean, Octavia? Clarke doesn't need to be _fixed. _There is nothing wrong with her!"

Octavia leaned back, her brow cocked as if to say, _really?_

Bellamy took a heavy breath, his mind racing. What exactly was he doing with Clarke? He had been telling himself that he was just helping her out because she had no one else, and in the beginning, that may have been true. But now, she had told their friends about Finn, and Finn was in jail. She didn't need protecting from him any longer. Maybe Clarke didn't need him, and he was just spinning his wheels because helping her made him feel like he was doing something useful.

But it was too late to step back now, wasn't it? Christ, he's had some sort of epiphany when he was with Echo. Bellamy had gotten himself too tangled up with Clarke to simply walk away. Even if she didn't need him any longer, he needed her.

Bellamy looked back at his sister, who had softened significantly while he had been thinking.

"Bell, I don't want to tell you what to do with your life, but I don't know how much more you should get involved with Clarke."

"Why's that? Just because she got raped, you think she's damaged goods now or something?"

"No, it's not that exactly." Octavia opened her mouth to say more, but glanced away.

Bellamy frowned. "What?"

"I-" Octavia shook her head. "Did Mom ever tell you why she got sucked into the whole prostitution thing in the first place?

Bellamy froze before slowly shaking his head.

Octavia sighed. "It was because she got raped."

Bellamy opened his mouth to retort but Octavia held up her hand to silence him.

"Before you go off and say Clarke's not like that, I know she isn't. Mom was involved with the guy beforehand and she knew that he used drugs. But still, she wouldn't have gotten as deep into it with him and that lifestyle as she did if it wern't for the rape."

"Why? That doesn't even make sense, O'."

Octavia looked him in the eye, really looked at him. It made Bellamy shift uncomfortably, made him feel like Octavia was the older sibling, the one that was trying to break bad news to the younger one in the gentlest way possible.

"She couldn't afford a baby without it, Bellamy."

Bellamy blinked, staring at Octavia. He registered what she said, but refused to process it. He knew his mother had had him when she was young, seventeen and still in highschool, which she promptly dropped out of. He knew she was already wrapped up in all that stuff before he was born. But what he hadn't known, was that he was the _reason _she was sucked into all of it.

"No, no, that's not true," Bellamy said hollowly. "When did she tell you all of this?"

Octavia shrugged. "That doesn't matter. I was never going to tell you, but it was the only way I could think of for you to see that-"

"See what? The being raped fucks someone up? Don't exactly have to be a genius to figure that one out," Bellamy spat. He didn't know what he was feeling right now; an emotion so strong that it slammed against the inside of his ribcage, demanding to be let out. Finding out you were the son of a rapist wasn't a great feeling.

"No of course it does! But Bellamy, it's not your job to fix Clarke just because you couldn't fix Mom-"

"You think that's what this is about? You think Clarke is some kind of - of _project _for me?"

"No, I just…"

"You what?" Bellamy demanded, breathing heavily.

"I just don't want to see you get hurt like you did after Mom!" Octavia shouted. Immediately afterwards, she shrunk back, looking as if she were close to tears.

Bellamy stopped and squeezed his eyes closed, calming himself down as much as he could. Images of his past flashed in his head, things he hadn't wanted to think about ever again.

"Bellamy, you went off the deep end after Mom got arrested," Octavia said, drawing him back to the room. "I was so scared," she whispered.

Bellamy's throat felt like it was closing off. Octavia wasn't wrong. He had gone off the rails, but it was a couple years ago now. He didn't like to think about that time of his life, and he purposely hadn't since it ended.

Most of all, he didn't like to think of the strain he had put on Octavia then. She had still been in highschool, a sophomore that year. Bellamy had graduated and been working for a couple years. The entirety of his life then was consumed by work, taking care of Octavia, and trying to keep his mother on the straight and narrow. Clearly, his efforts hadn't been enough.

Bellamy hadn't realized he'd squeezed his eyes shut again until Octavia hugged him. Her scrawny arms wrapped around his chest, making him feel like they were back in their old apartment, red and blue lights from the police cars flashing on the dirty walls as an officer waited impatiently to take Octavia away. Bellamy might have been an adult, but he technically wasn't Octavia's legal guardian, so she therefore wasn't allowed to stay with him after their mother had been carted off to jail.

"I'm sorry," Bellamy whispered, hugging her back. It had taken him a lot longer than it should have to become Octavia's legal guardian, mainly due to his own issues. During that time, she had bounced around between a handful of different group homes, teen centers, and foster families.

Eventually, Bellamy had gotten his shit together. He searched high and low for an affordable apartment, worked his ass off to save up a bit of money, got a lawyer, and made his court appearance in order to get custody of his sister. It was a happy ending, but the damage was done and a strain had been placed on their relationship.

Bellamy blamed himself for what had become of their mother, while Octavia blamed Bellamy for leaving her in foster care for so long. They had both gotten over it though, or so Bellamy thought, and moved on. Apparently, Octavia still harbored a bit of deep-set resentment and anxiety about the whole situation.

After a long moment, Octavia pulled back and wiped her tears with the heel of her hand. Bellamy looked at her sadly, unsure what to say.

Otavia sniffled and said, "I just don't want you to get too wrapped up in Clarke in case she takes a turn for the worse and you end up blaming yourself for her decisions."

Bellamy smiled softly. He knew Octavia's concern came from a place of love, which was the only reason he wasn't spitting mad any longer.

Octavia looked as if she wanted to say something else, but glanced away.

"Spit it out, O'. You've said an awful lot to get bashful now."

Octavia's head snapped up. "I just want to know… Well, maybe it's not my business."

Bellamy chuckled. "Since when have you ever minded your own business?"

"Are you like, dating her?" she blurted.

Bellamy paused before slowly "No."

"But you're more than friends?"

"Yes," Bellamy said just as carefully. That much was true. Up until kissing Clarke out on Bell Tower today, Bellamy hadn't much considered the possibility that they could be anything more than close friends, no matter how strongly he felt for Clarke.

Octavia looked wide eyed and innocent as she gazed up at her brother. "I don't want you to get hurt by her."

Bellamy gave a closemouthed smile. "She could never hurt me, O'."

"Well, you don't hurt her either then." Octavia smiled back at him. A few moments passed before Octavia added, "Sorry I freaked out on you… I really do care about Clarke, you know."

"I know you do. I do too."

"How much?" Octavia dared to ask.

Bellamy stilled, having to answer that question for himself before he could give his sister an answer.

"Very nearly as much as I care about you," he finally admitted.

"Aww, can't let her take my number one spot now Bell!" Octavia teased.

Bellamy, slightly surprised and pleased that she hadn't scoffed at his response, reached out and tousled Octavia's hair. "No one ever could."

"Bellamy!" A shout came from the hallway.

"Dear God in heaven," Bellamy muttered before shouting back, "What?"

"How goddamned long do you need to change? We're going to be later than a pregnant whore's period!"

Bellamy cringed at Murphy's crude language, but swung the door open all the same.

A forceful wave of deja vu washed over him, seeing his friends standing outside the door, just as they had been on the morning of the very first dodgeball event. Things had changed since then, some for the worse, some for the better.

Clarke stood there, grinning, looking happier than Bellamy remembered her ever being. On the flipside of the coin though, Raven stood beside her, leaning heavily on her crutches, her paralyzed leg hanging uselessly in it's brace.

"Hurry hurry!" Jasper urged, bouncing on his toes before starting to physically push people down the hallway.

"Just wait a second!" Clarke called, grabbing Bellamy's wrist as he moved by her.

He spun around to meet her clear, bright eyes, flashing back to the way she looked earlier, right before he kissed her…

"Remember when I told you I was working on that _special project?"_

Bellamy nodded, recalling the night they went out to dinner together. Some might call that their first date, he supposed.

"Well, it's done, and everyone else has already seen it. Nosy bastards," Clarke muttered without venom at the other boys. Monty mouthed a sorry while Murphy shrugged unapologetically.

"What is it?" Bellamy asked, more than a little curious.

"Here." Clarke produced a large poster from behind her back, unrolling it and holding it out to Bellamy.

He stared for a moment, taking it all in. "Wow, Clarke. I didn't know you were so talented," he said earnestly, looking at her face as she blushed.

The poster was truly a work of art, it must have taken her hours. Bellamy traced his finger over the drawing of himself, briefly wondering how long Clarke stared at the photo of him in order to capture his likeness on the poster. It was like looking at the photograph itself it was so lifelike.

"It's incredible," he said.

"Glad you like it," Clarke said, pushing it into his hands. "Take it and replace that other one."

"Hey! That _other one _is a masterpiece!" Jasper protested.

"Sure it is, Jasper. And Murphy's a beauty queen." Miller slapped Murphy on the back.

"Piss off," Murphy chuckled.

Clarke rolled her eyes, stepping back to Raven's side. "You guys really do have to get going now."

"You're not coming?" Bellamy asked as everyone else started for the elevator again.

"No, she thinks she got to babysit me," Raven answered for Clarke, poking her roommate in the foot with a crutch.

"Oh, well that's good," Bellamy said lamely, trying not to sound too disappointed.

Clearly it hadn't worked. "Oh, don't cry, Blake. Your _Princess _will be here when you get back," Raven teased and Clarke blushed.

"It's true, I promise," Clarke said. "Go have fun Bellamy."

He smiled at her, and then just to see her cheeks blush again, said, "Of course. And this poster is amazing, Clarke, really."

"Oh, get outta here!" Clarke shooed him, giggling.

"See you soon!" Bellamy said, running down the hall to catch up with everyone else. Harper had held the elevator door open despite protests from Murphy, so he was easily able to slip in. He watched the door close and cut Clarke off from view, where she was very obviously being chastised by Raven. She looked just so untroubled at the moment, it made Bellamy's heart swell.

As they set out at a jog down the sidewalk towards the Recreation Center, the thought popped into Bellamy's mind. Was he going to have to see Echo here? He hadn't said a word to her since he walked out of her dorm after having sex with her… and then proclaiming that he was in love with someone else.

He inwardly cringed. It was never his aim to make a girl feel badly, in fact, he tried to avoid it, but Echo probably hadn't been feeling too delighted when he raced out her door as if he couldn't get away fast enough. What he had done with her had been a mistake, but it made him realize how he truly felt for Clarke.

It was a feeling different from what he felt for past girls in his life. That was all lust and heat of the moment. It was instantaneous and then it was over. With Clarke, it was a feeling that had been building and growing. It didn't stem from physical desire, although Clarke was damn attractive. It would be more aptly described as similarly to the way he loved Octavia, a love that was deeply rooted, cemented into Bellamy's heart with a permanence that he was certain would remain throughout his life, no matter if Clarke moved back to Oregon tomorrow and never spoke to him again.

It was as terrifying as it was exhilarating.

"Bellamy!" Octavia's voice shattered his reverie. He returned to the sidewalk outside the recreation center, back to his friends and his sister. The trip from the dorm had passed in an instant when his mind was focused on something else. Namly, _someone _else.

Octavia gave him an odd look, then rolled her eyes. "Wipe the stupid little grin off your face, lover boy."

Bellamy grunted in weak protest, swiping a hand across his mouth as if to literally wipe away his expression before trailing the group into the complex.

The gymnasium was pretty busy, busier than it had been last time. Bellamy slipped away from the group and wove his way across the floor to hand up Clarke's new poster. Clearly, they weren't as late as they'd thought. The courts were filled with chit chatting students rather than actual dodgeball players.

Bellamy stretched onto his toes to pull down their pitiful attempt at artistic team spirit, earning himself a shower of glitter for his efforts. He staggered backwards, coughing at rubbing his eyes as the tiny pieces covered his face.

"Fuckin' glitter," he muttered, irritated.

"That's a good look for you."

Bellamy paused, straightening up and blinking open his eyes, which were watering in an attempt to fend off the foreign bodies invading them.

"Huh?"

"The glitter in your hair, it's cute."

That voice was familiar. "Thanks, Echo."

She only nodded, looking faintly amused and Bellamy carded his hands through his shock of hair. He pretended to scrape more glitter off his corneas in an attempt to make Echo talk first, but his plan failed. Echo only stood watching, her thumbs hooked through the belt loops of her very short jean shorts.

"Hey, you know, sorry about the other night," Bellamy said, focusing on transferring the tape front he back of one poster to the other.

Echo scoffed. "Don't be. I had a good time."

That gave Bellamy pause. Echo was certainly bold, he would give her that.

"I mean, it doesn't feel great to be the person that leads someone to a revelation about the true love of their life, but, well, you know your way around in bed."

Bellamy inhaled. "Uh, thanks?"

Echo nodded once. "Well, you're welcome. And if the other thing doesn't work out, I'll be around."

Bellamy tried, unsuccessfully, to hide a grimace. Echo was walking around, openly talking about being some second rate girl. It didn't sit right with Bellamy, but before he had the chance to say something, she changed topics.

"Wow, where'd this come from?" Echo picked up Clarke's poster.

"Uh, Clarke drew it. She couldn't stand this thing." Bellamy shook the other poster, sending another snowstorm of glitter onto the polished wood floor.

"I'd say this one is marginally better," Echo said sarcastically.

"Yeah, Clarke's a good artist. And a good baker. Actually, she's pretty much good at everything."

"Clarke, huh?"

"Yeah, Clarke," Bellamy said softly, thinking about the day he and Clarke baked that cake. Well, Clarke baked a cake while Bellamy sat and watched. He didn't see the way Echo was looking at him for several seconds, and when he did, he felt a slight heat rise to his cheeks.

"She's the one?" It wasn't really a question.

Bellamy busied himself rolling up the glittery monstrosity. Was he really that easy to read? First Octavia, who admittedly knew him pretty well, and now Echo, who was more or less a stranger.

"Lucky girl," Echo murmured. This time, he knew she was talking about more than his specific skill set in the bedroom. Bellamy couldn't help noticing the irony in the phrase, though. Clarke was anything but lucky, really. She more or less got stuck with Bellamy, and it was just a bonus side effect that they ended up getting along.

"She's pretty special," Bellamy finally said, smiling down at the drawing of himself and the guys as Echo handed the poster back to him.

Slowly, he turned and reached up, pressing each taped corner to the brick wall gingerly as if it were extremely liable to tearing.

Stepping back, he admired it once more. It was slightly crooked, tilted to the left a few degrees, but that was due to his subpar poster-mounting skills. Bellamy didn't mind, choosing to see it as more of a metaphor of his and Clarke's lives. Beautiful things could be a touch off center and still be beautiful.

It was easier to talk to Echo when he wasn't looking directly at her face. "Echo, I really am sorry. I know I acted like a dick, and I never wanted to make you feel used. I just… life has been crazy lately. That isn't an excuse, but- Well, I feel really bad about what I did."

Echo made a small sound, and for the first time since meeting her, sounded truly genuine. "I know. But you shouldn't. Don't forget that I was the one who invited you over in the first place. And I knew you weren't interested in me, but I wanted to see how far you would go. Don't blame yourself, it's on me."

Before Bellamy could think of a reply, an unfamiliar voice came from just behind him.

"Fraternizing with the enemy, sis?"

"Relax Roan. I'm not even on the team." Echo gave her brother a shove as he placed a hand on each of her shoulders and shook her playfully. Bellamy marvelled at how quickly she had shifted from sincere to spirited.

"You're Bellamy, right?"

Bellamy nodded, remembering Roan from their previous tournament. He vaguely recalled that he and Echo were siblings, too.

"Heard about you, man. You used to work for Mecha Construction?" Roan continued, confusing Bellamy.

"Uh, yeah, for a few years," Bellamy said uncertainly.

Roan nodded. "Pike's a sonna of bitch, isn't he?"

Bellamy chuckled at the mention of his former boss. "He's a royal hardass, that's for sure. How'd you know him?"

"Used to do summer work for Mecha when I was in high school. Roofing and laying patio brick and all the other shit no one else wanted to do. I was the one they called when the sewer pipes froze up in the winter, even though I was only contracted in the summer. Pike paid me under the table." Roan chuckled.

Bellamy paused. "Wait a minute, you're the Ice King?"

Roan laughed in earnest; a booming sound that seemed to reverberate around the whole of the gymnasium. "Haven't heard that name in years!"

Echo turned to look at her brother. "Ice King? Why'd they call you that?"

"Because one time he got the ice out of the pipe by-"

"Okay! Anyways," Roan quickly interrupted Bellamy, steering his sister away. "'Bout time to get started, isn't it?"

Echo laughed. "Now I want to hear this story!"

Bellamy chuckled at them as he turned to spot his team. They weren't far off, just a few dozen feet behind him, standing next to the rest of the Grounders.

As he walked over towards them, Bellamy noticed his own sister standing rather close to one of the guys. He felt the subtle shift of suspicion in himself as he watched the man hug Octavia around the shoulders with a muscular arm covered in tattoos. He stood several inches taller than Octavia, and looked several years older.

Octavia grinned back at the man and the pair looked awfully friendly.

"Hey, Bell!" Octavia shouted, slipping out from under the man's arm and latching on to Bellamy's hand, either oblivious to, or, more likely, ignoring, his reproving expression.

"This is my brother Bellamy, Lincoln. Finally found him." Octavia presented Bellamy to the guy.

Lincoln wiped his palm on his shorts before extending his hand to Bellamy, who shook it.

"Nice to meet you, man," Lincoln said stiffly, then glanced to Octavia, who grinned and gave him a thumbs up.

"You too," Bellamy said skeptically. "Who are you?"

Octavia butted in before he could respond. "I just told you! Lincoln! He's on the Grounders team?"

"Well, yeah. I know that," Bellamy muttered, noticing how the courts were clearing now as the time for the first games approached.

"Lincoln, c'mon dude!" someone shouted.

"Oh, good luck!" Octavia said exuberantly, bouncing up on her toes and kissing the man.

Bellamy blinked, momentarily stunned. This dude looked to be about twenty-five and Octavia was barely eighteen.

Lincoln cast a glance at Bellamy before jogging off quickly, leaving Octavia with a pat on the shoulder.

"What the hell, O'?" Bellamy said coarsely, turning to his little sister.

She only flashed him a rebellious grin and said, "By the way, we're dating."

"When were you going to tell me you had a thirty-year-old boyfriend?" Bellamy asked, making a genuine effort to keep his voice level. Of course his sister was going to date people, and she _had, _but Bellamy had always given his stamp of approval beforehand. Or at least partial approval.

"He is _not _thirty!" Octavia protested. "And I don't have to tell you everything I do, Bellamy. Remember when you agreed that I was an adult and you'd stay out of my business? Because I remember quite well, actually."

Bellamy grumbled and pinched the bridge of his nose. Octavia technically was an adult, but Bellamy wasn't ready to relinquish his say in her big life choices yet. Especially when she decided to make her boyfriend a literal walking brick shithouse with a Roth-IRA.

"Octavia-" Bellamy started, but realized he didn't have anything to say. He knew he was jumping to conclusions and being prejudiced and unfair, but he cared about his sister.

"You don't even know him!" she protested.

"Do _you _even know him?"

"Yes. We've been dating for almost a month."

"A _month! _And you never even mentioned it?"

Octavia glared. "No, Bellamy, I _didn't. _Because I knew you were going to behave like this!"

"Behave? I care about you, O'." Bellamy said, deflating.

"Well then support me!"

"I just don't want you to get hurt."

Octavia frowned. "I know. I should have told you sooner," she said, then begrudgingly added, "Sorry."

"It's okay," Bellamy sighed, glancing back at where Lincoln was stretching out his legs with Roan and his other teammates. "I just want you to be safe, you know?"

Octavia smiled then, and surprised Bellamy by hugging him. "I am safe, Lincoln is a good guy. He'd never do something to me like Finn did to Clarke."

Bellamy paused where he was hugging Octavia back. He hadn't even realized that had been his concern until she'd said that. He didn't want Octavia to end up in Clarke's position. He didn't want _anyone _to end up in Clarke's position.

"And, he's really not that much older than me," Octavia said, pulling away. Bellamy raised a brow. "He's no older than me than you are of Clarke!"

Bellamy shook his head. "Clarke isn't my girlfriend."

Octavia gave him an_, oh really?_ look that made Bellamy's stomach flip.

"C'mon!" Octavia said, not allowing Bellamy to linger on his thoughts of Clarke as she pulled him towards where Harper had set up in the bleachers with the rest of the guys. The absence of Clarke and Raven among them brought a pang of sadness, but at least they were both still alive. It was a dreary way to look at the situation, but it was the truth. Both of them were recovering from their own forms of both physical and mental trauma, but they were recovering.

Bellamy took a moment to close his eyes and decompress. Today had probably been one of the most emotionally draining days of his life, and yet he was content. He desperately missed Raven and Clarke in their little group, but they were safe back at the dorm. Life was going to work out, one little piece at a time.

**AN_**

**Hi! :) Fancy seeing you here. **

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Birch66724**


	38. Chapter 38

Over the course of the next week, things gradually fell back into some semblance of normalcy. Clarke went to her scheduled classes at their scheduled times, ate lunch in the dining hall, and went to sleep at a reasonable hour. For the first time since her college experience began, she felt like she was actually a college student. The oppressive weight of Finn's assault had somewhat lifted in telling her friends, and she was able to walk around easier. She had even taken Bellamy's advice and gone to talk to a school provided counselor. The appointment was awkward, but it had been cathartic to talk through her assault with someone who was not directly related to the incident.

News of a shooting of a University of Minnesota student had spread across the campus, and it didn't take people long to figure out that the victim was Raven once they returned back to their dorm. Flowers and small gifts and food frequently showed up at their door, which Raven always opened with an impatient smile. Clarke knew Raven wanted nothing more than to put the whole thing behind her and move on, and the constant reminders and sympathy shoved in her face weren't helping. They couldn't complain about the supply of free snacks and chocolate however, and Harper loved placing the vases of flowers all around their dorms on any available surface. The dorm looked and smelled like a garden.

Clarke had spoken with her mother every day that week, finally telling her about what had happened once Abby had come up for air from her work long enough to see the news about the shooting. The conversation had been hard, with Abby wanting to come visit Clarke, or for Clarke to come home for a few weeks. Clarke quickly shut down both options, convincing her mom that Abby couldn't leave the hospital, and that Clarke couldn't get too behind on her classwork. Abby apologized profusely that she hadn't been more consistent with calling to check up on her daughter, and then scolded Clarke for not calling her either.

Abby also filled Clarke in on the Wells situation. Dr. Jaha was going to be a professor at the University, overseeing clinicals for the upper level medical students. Wells was transfering schools in order to stay near his father, because he didn't have any other family and apparently had had a hard time making friends at Oregon State University, where he had originally attended. He was set to move in sometime this weekend. Abby had reminded Clarke to talk to Wells every time they spoke, but Clarke had yet to do it. She was rather busy after all…

Clarke wasn't the only one who was busy, either. Everyone had all consequently missed some amount of school and were playing catchup, so the group hadn't seen much of each other. Clarke had eaten lunch with the guys one day, and of course saw Harper and Octavia every morning and evening, but other than that, there was little interaction.

Clarke missed Bellamy, but she wasn't too upset about not seeing him every day like she was used to. For one, she didn't want to wear out her welcome, so to speak. For another, she didn't know where they stood with each other now. After they had kissed up at Bell Tower… Clarke was confused. Bellamy was still the most important person in her world right now, and she would be lying if she said she didn't want to kiss him again, but a nagging uncertainty kept her from reaching out to him.

They had texted back and forth most days, but it was pretty shallow stuff, about homework or Octavia. Neither of them had broached the topic of the blurred lines of their not-so-platonic relationship.

Clarke knew it was just because Bellamy wasn't going to pressure her, but her condescending inner voice made her feel like it was because Bellamy thought of their kiss as a mistake, although his words that afternoon told of anything but that.

It took a lot of energy to think about, so Clarke chose to push it to the back of her mind and focus on her school work, of which there were copious amounts. But once all her work was done and she was lying in bed, about to fall asleep, thoughts of Bellamy would creep in. His warm hands cupping her face, her fingers tangled in his hair, the way his lips felt on hers… it almost made Clarke reach for her phone and text him, or get up out of bed and go downstairs to his dorm.

But she didn't. She pushed the thoughts down, rolled over, and went to sleep.

Only now, the intrusive thoughts weren't only coming at night. The memory of Bellamy's hand running down her back had popped into her head the second she lost focus on her calculus assignment.

Clarke tapped her pencil against her desk and took a deep breath. It was late afternoon on Friday and golden autumn light streamed through the window. Raven was sitting at her desk as well, her braced leg propped up on her laundry basket. If Clarke ignored her obvious injury, she looked just like she used to; her dark hair swept back in a sleek ponytail, eyes narrowed in focus, fingers typing furiously on her laptop. It was easy to pretend that nothing had changed. If only.

A knock came from the door, startling Clarke. Raven grumbled, leaning back in her chair.

"Another well-wisher?" Clarke asked.

Raven rubbed at her eyes, muttering something as she dragged her leg off of the basket and used her desk to pull herself into a standing position.

Her leg had shown no signs of returning to functionality, and yesterday's doctor's appointment only confirmed what they had already suspected. No change. Clarke knew that Raven was trying not to let it get her down, but it was hard. If Raven was one thing though, it was persistent.

Raven had abandoned her crutches at the appointment yesterday, as she could move around just fine without them. She had gotten a different, more flexible brace and she could 'walk' on it. Her gait was stilted and she had an obvious, heavy limp, but she could walk without leaning on anything. Clarke hoped for her sake that the limp would dissipate as Raven's surgical site healed more.

Raven made her way to the door and opened it with a, "Hello?"

"Hi, you're Raven, right?"

"Yep, that's me. The one who got shot. And yes, I accept your condolences, and yes, I am doing just fine, thank you."

Clarke smirked at Raven's dry greeting.

"Oh- uh, okay," the visitor stuttered, confused.

Clarke turned around in her chair to see this guy. He didn't look like one of the typical people who had been coming to the door the past few days. He carried no bouquet of flowers or stuffed animals. Instead, he had a couple of textbooks under one arm and a backpack over the other. A typical student.

Raven, clearly noting the same things Clarke had, said, "Do you need something?"

The guy shifted his textbooks, glancing at Raven's leg before quickly averting his eyes. "I'm Miles Shaw." He held out his hand which Raven shook. He seemed to have expected that to ring a bell with Raven, but when it didn't he added, "Professor Sinclair sent me?"

"Professor Sinclair? From mechanical?"

"That's the one. You're in one hundred, right?"

"Yeah," Raven said, turning to look at Clarke. Clarke shrugged. "What, um, why did he send you?"

"For tutoring. He heard about your uh, situation and thought you could use someone to help bring you up to speed with where the rest of the class is at."

Raven shook her head. "Thanks, but I'm good."

"Wait! I have to at least proctor your test. Sinclair needs it by Monday." Miles put his hand to stop Raven as she started to close the door.

"Oh, okay. Sorry."

"No, it's fine. I'm sorry to disturb you, but I thought you knew I was coming. Professor Sinclair told me he talked to you about it."

"No, I don't think so." Raven moved aside to let Miles into the room. "I did talk to him, but he never said anything about a Miles."

"Please, call me Shaw. Everyone does."

"Okay. Just let me submit this stupid paper and then I can take your test," Raven said, limping back to her desk. Clarke watched Shaw take in the room, with the windowsill adorned with flowers and the dozen teddy bears in a pile on the floor beside Raven's bed.

"I can go," Clarke offered, already standing.

"No, it's fine!" Shaw said quickly, glancing at Raven, who was again typing furiously. "So long as you're quiet, and don't give her the answers to _Aerodynamics and Fluid Mechanics: Real World Applications _we'll be just fine."

"Trust me, I couldn't even if I wanted to," Clarke chuckled. "You're on your own, Raven."

"Eh, shouldn't even be in the one hundred level course, but I forgot to take the competency test to go up a level."

"Really? I had a really hard time in Sinclair's Mechanics 100," Shaw said. He was still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

Clarke watched the way the guy listened to Raven as they started talking about some engineering class. She found out that Shaw was a junior, he was majoring in aerospace engineering with the hopes to one day design planes or even rockets. Clarke almost laughed out loud at the way Raven's eyes lit up when he said that. He was assisting in Sinclair's class as an internship project, but he just got stuck running errands and grading papers instead of learning much about mechanical engineering.

The two of them spent almost fifteen minutes chatting before the test got underway. Clarke switched to sitting on her bed so Shaw could have her chair and desk while Raven took the test. Everytime Clarke glanced up, Shaw's eyes were on Raven, and Clarke knew he wasn't just ensuring that Raven maintained academic honesty.

Clarke smiled to herself, hopeful that at the least, Raven would make a new friend. She had been pretty isolated to just Clarke, Harper, and Octavia, having spent last week in the hospital, and then the better part of this week bound to the room for mobility reasons. It wasn't exactly easy to meet new friends when you couldn't walk. And the people that came to the door didn't count; they only wanted to ask questions about Raven's injury or the shooting, not get to know her. Raven learned that the hard way, and had stopped inviting anyone into the room quite promptly.

Clarke finished up her calculus assignment and set her books aside, yawning despite it being barely five o'clock. Raven was still concentrating on her test, while Shaw rocked back in the chair absently, fiddling with something that he had pulled out of his backpack. It was a little awkward to see this guy just sitting at Clarke's desk, so she stood up and gathered her laptop and notebooks into her backpack before letting herself out of the room as quietly as possible. Shaw gave Clarke a little wave and she smiled at him, hoping that after Raven finished the test, the two of them would start talking again, They seemed to have a lot in common.

Now that she stood alone in the hallway, Clarke was unsure what to do. Originally, she left with the intention to head to the library to start working on her chemistry lab report, but the thought of it made her want to die. The library seemed impossibly far away, even though it was barely a block from Frontier Hall, and chemistry made Clarke want to tear her hair out sometimes. Especially writing up a lab report that her professor was sure to not read because he would be receiving over two hundred of them. What a drag.

As Clarke slowly walked down the hall, her phone started ringing in her back pocket. Pulling it out, the screen flashed: _unrecognized caller. _Clarke answered it anyway, more to stall the inevitable than anything.

"Hello?"

"_Clarke? Is that you?"_

Yes, who is calling?" Clarke asked.

"_It's me, Wells! I was beginning to think you had changed your number. Every time I called it dropped to voicemail."_ His voice sounded a bit different, older maybe, more mature.

"Oh, Wells! Hi, I was going to call you," Clarke lied. "When are you moving in?"

"_I don't know for sure, I have to go down to the housing office."_

"You're already here?"

"_Yeah, we got in this morning. I'm at my dad's new apartment right now."_

Clarke leaned against the wall next to the stairwell, clutching her phone to her ear. This conversation was awkward and made Clarke feel immensely guilty that she hadn't reached out to Wells prior to his arrival like she had promised she would do.

"Really?" Clarke reached for something to say. "Where is he living?"

"The Marshall Apartments," Wells chuckled. "I don't know why he decided to live here, it's student housing. He actually met one of his students in the elevator when we first got here."

Clarke laughed. "Oh no, that's embarrassing."

"_Yeah, the worst part is that Dad didn't even tell him he was the new professor. That's going to be awkward on Monday." _

"Yeah, for sure."

"_Uh huh. Pretty sure Dad is the only person under the age of twenty-five in the whole building. But oh well."_

"Maybe he'll have to make some work friends," Clarke suggested.

"_Yeah, I hope so."_

The conversation lulled, but Clarke didn't have anything to say. Thankfully, Wells picked up the slack.

"_Anyway Clarke, I was calling you to see if you wanted to do something tonight? My dad is at some meeting with the University and I don't really want to sit in his apartment alone all night. I thought we could catch up. It's been a long time since we really talked."_

"Yeah, for sure!" Clarke said quickly, whether out of guilt or genuine interest in seeing him, she didn't know. "I don't have any plans tonight. What were you thinking?"

"_I dunno. You tell me. We could grab some dinner or you could show me around campus? I sort of enrolled here without exploring it much."_

"Sure. That sounds good."

"_Okay. You're in Frontier, right?"_

"Yes."

"_Alright I'll walk over. Meet me in the entry?"_

"Sure thing. See you soon."

"_I'm looking forward to it, Clarke,"_ Wells said before ending the call.

Clarke removed her phone from her ear and held it with both hands. Then she added Wells' number back to her contacts list. She didn't remember ever deleting his number, but it wasn't there any more. Perhaps she just hadn't transferred it over when she had gotten a new phone last year. She hadn't really talked to him since they were sixteen, so what would have been the point of keeping it?

There had been a time when they had talked every day. Wells had been Clarke's best friend for a long time. Since their parents were colleagues and they were both only children, they had gotten stuck together at their parents' work related parties and events, even in the doctor's lounge at the hospital at times. Over time they became best friends; throughout elementary school and middle school they had been inseparable.

Then Clarke's dad died, and their relationship evolved. Clarke became withdrawn and somehow Wells drew her back out. Then, when they were fifteen, Wells asked Clarke to be his girlfriend, and, not knowing how to respond, Clarke said yes, although her feelings towards her childhood friends remained -mostly- platonic.

Clarke was deep in remembrance when she heard her name called.

"Clarke?"

"Hmm?" Clarke blinked and shook her head, coming back to the present.

"Hey! What are you thinkin' about Princess?" Bellamy had appeared without Clarke's notice.

Clarke smiled at the sight of him, which had been rare the last several days. "You," she joked.

Bellamy flashed a cocky grin and took Clarke's hand, spinning her around as if dancing with her.

"What are you doing?" Clarke laughed, pressing her cheek to Bellamy's chest as he pulled her in.

"Saying hi. Hi."

"You're crazy," Clarke said, stepping back. She had only seen Bellamy once during the whole week, and then it had been with Jasper, Miller, and Murphy, so the two of them hadn't talked about anything personal.

That meant their little kiss and reunion on Bell Tower was hanging over their heads, undiscussed and confusing for Clarke.

"No. Not really."

Clarke rolled her eyes. "What are you doing up here? Coming to see Octavia?" She half hoped he would say he was coming to see _her. _

Bellamy didn't disappoint. "No. I wanted to see you, Clarke. I haven't seen you all week, and I finally finished off the rest of my assignments, so I'm all yours now."

That made Clarke's chest flutter. _Oh god. _She decided to keep up the playful conversation in order to avoid the inevitable, deeper conversation.

"I'm afraid I'm not nearly as exciting as late algebra assignments."

Bellamy tried to make a contemplative frown, but his amusement refused to be suppressed. "Hmm, Clarke Griffin or the quadratic equation? That's a real tough one."

Clarke laughed, shaking her head. Bellamy was too cute.

"But seriously, want to do something tonight?"

Clarke opened her mouth to say yes, but then remembered Wells. Somehow Bellamy made her forget about her plans with him in a matter of minutes.

"Yes, but I can't. Not tonight."

Bellamy's face twisted into a frown. "Do you have too much work to do? Or do you have plans?"

Clarke fidgeted with her phone. "I just made plans. Well, I didn't make them, I got invited."

"By who? Octavia?"

"No. Remember last week? When my mom called me and told me that my old friend was transferring to the U?"

"Yes, what about him?" Bellamy's eyes narrowed further and Clarke noticed.

"He just got here today and asked if I'd show him around, so he can get to know the campus a bit better before he starts classes on Monday."

Bellamy grunted, looking displeased.

"I'm sorry Bellamy. But hey!" Clarke got an idea. "Why don't you come along? Wells needs to meet some more people. Maybe you two could be friends?"

"Yeah, maybe," Bellamy agreed tentatively. "What kind of name is Wells?"

"What kind of name is Bellamy?" Clarke countered, glad the slight tension had diffused.

"Fair enough," Bellamy conceded. "Where are you meeting him?

"He said he'd meet more outside Frontier," Clarke explained, heading for the door to the stairwell.

"Oh. Is he going to live on campus?"

"I think so. We really haven't talked much. I kept meaning to call him but I just kept putting it off."

Bellamy followed Clarke down the stairs, their footsteps echoing. Clarke realized what a stroke of genius this actually was. Bellamy would keep it from being awkward like it would have been if it were just Clarke and Wells. And, this way, Clarke would still get to spend time with Bellamy while fulfilling her obligation to Wells.

"So, what's the deal with this guy?" Bellamy asked, holding the door open for Clarke when they reached the bottom of the stairs.

"What do you mean?" Clarke asked.

"Didn't you say he used to be your boyfriend?"

Clarke didn't miss the sharp edge to Bellamy's tone. "Yes."

Bellamy tensely opened the front door and led them outside. The sun was still shining, but the air was nippy. Fall in Minnesota was much cooler than it had been in Oregon.

"So like, when did you date?"

Clarke realized then that the edge to Bellamy's tone was jealousy. She tried to suppress a grin and the thought of it. Bellamy. Jealous. And at a boyfriend from high school to whom Clarke hadn't spoken to in nearly two years.

"Sophomore year," Clarke answered, keeping her answers purposely short to draw out Bellamy suspicions. Perhaps it was mean, but it was enjoyable.

"Sophomore year…" Bellamy repeated, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Clarke watched his face as he squinted into the sun, waiting for him to look at her.

He finally did. "What?"

Clarke couldn't help but smirk. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

Bellamy huffed, then whined, "Claaarke."

She giggled. "Are you jealous?"

"No!" Bellamy said quickly. "I am not."

"Oh?" Clarke played coy, loving every second of this. It felt nice to have the confirmation that Bellamy did in fact care for her. Of course she knew he did, but to be present with evidence was reassuring and pleasant.

"What would I have to be jealous of? Some dork from Oregon?"

"Bellamy!" Clarke laughed out loud. Bellamy wrapped an arm around around her shoulders, pulling her backwards into his chest and rocking side to side.

"Everyone from Oregon is a dork," he teased.

"Not true!" Clarke had to protest. She loved how Bellamy was holding her. His face was so close to hers, and even though they weren't facing one another, she was reminded of their kiss and of how much she wanted to do it again.

"You're the biggest dork of them all," Bellamy went on. "You spent all week studying. Could even spare an hour to come see your best friend."

"What do you mean? I live with Raven. I saw her everyday."

Bellamy released her and stepped back, feigning hurt. He turned his mouth down into an overexaggerated pout and crossed his arms.

"Oooh, you mean _you?_ Jeez, why didn't you say so?" Clarke said.

Bellamy grinned. There was only so much of this game they could play. "I know you were busy, I'm just joking Princess."

"Yeah yeah. But to be fair I _did _want to see you. I just had so much work to catch up on, and then when I finally did have time, I felt bad leaving Raven alone." _Plus, I didn't want to have a serious conversation with you yet, _Clarke added to herself.

"I know. I don't blame you. But you're all caught up now, and Raven is doing a lot better, right?"

Clarke shrugged. It was hard to tell. Raven was so strong willed, she wouldn't have let Clarke know even if she was struggling. It was a good thing, in that Raven was strong enough to get through her injury and subsequent breakup, but Clarke worried what shoving down her feelings was doing to Raven.

"This weekend we have to-" Bellamy's words were cut off.

"Clarke? Is that you?" Wells appeared up the sidewalk, shading his eyes from the sun with one hand. He was wearing a button down shirt and jeans, squinting as he walked towards them.

"Wells!" Clarke called back, walking to meet him halfway. He looked taller than he had last time Clarke had seen him, which was really only about five months ago at their high school graduation. Even though they hadn't regularly associated after the break up, they had still seen each other in passing.

"Wow, it's so good to see you," Wells gushed, finally reaching Clarke and sweeping her up in a hug before she even got a chance to look at his face. "I'm so sorry I didn't make the effort to keep in touch, Clarke. I've really missed you."

"It's okay," Clarke said breathily, a bit taken aback by Wells' very warm greeting. His embrace was tight and definitely more intimate than just a friendly hello hug. As Clarke struggled a bit to pull back, she immediately turned to see Bellamy's reaction, glad he hadn't been close enough to hear Wells' words.

Clearly, seeing Wells' close embrace had been enough to make his eyes narrow. Bellamy walked up with a set jaw, eyeing Clarke's old friend with suspicion.

Before he had the chance to say anything, Clarke jumped in. "Wells, this is my- this is Bellamy," she stumbled over her words, hoping neither guy noticed. "Bellamy, Wells."

"Hey man," Wells shook Bellamy's hand, either oblivious to the hostility in his eyes or choosing to ignore it. Knowing Wells, he was probably just ignoring it.

"Hey," Bellamy said in return, looking at Clarke with a raised brow. Apparently Wells wasn't exactly how Bellamy had imagined him.

"Nice to meet you," Wells said, ever pleasant. That was one thing that had always irked Clarke about Wells. He always held a sort of refined air about him, always polite, always behaving as expected. It made him look good to new people, but the closer you got to him, the more it seemed to be an irritation. Why was he always so _perfect?_

"You too."

"I didn't know you were going to bring anyone along, Clarke, but it's just the same. It's nice to meet some more people here. I don't know anyone yet."

"That's what I was thinking!" Clarke hurried to say. "I have a bunch more friends that I'd be happy to introduce you to another time."

"A bunch? Wow, really seems like you're fitting in here. I always knew you'd do better in college than high school."

Clarke shrugged, trying not to let heat rise to her cheeks as Wells stared intently at her.

"Aww Princess. Didn't you have any friends in high school?" Bellamy teased.

Clarke scoffed, socking him in the arm. "Of course I did!"

"Just a few. But a few close friends are worth twenty acquaintances," Wells said, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning at Bellamy.

A tension mounted in the space after Wells' words. "Let's not talk about how lonely I was in high school. C'mon, let's walk around campus."

Clarke started walking without waiting for a response, wondering if perhaps inviting Bellamy along wasn't such a good idea.

Her thought was confirmed within the next few moments when the sidewalk narrowed so that the three of them could no longer walk in a row, so someone had to lag behind. Since Clarke had started talking to Wells about his residence hall assignment, Bellamy dropped back.

"Yeah, I wasn't sure I wanted to be in the superblock at first, and I was going to stay over on West Bank, but the housing office told me I wasn't allowed to make requests since I was a mid-term transfer."

"Really? You couldn't even say your preference?"

"No! They told me they had an opening in Sanford and an opening in Centennial. That was it."

"Oh gosh no wonder they had an opening in Sanford, no one wants to be way up there. Unless you just want to party in Dinkytown every night."

"Dinkytown? What's that?"

Bellamy scoffed from behind them. "You don't even know what Dinkytown is? Figures."

"Bellamy!" Clarke scolded. "Dinkytown is like a neighborhood. It's on the edge of campus, where all the frat houses are and the cheap bars and trashy apartments. People really only go there to party."

"Oh. I didn't even know that. Makes me even more glad I picked Centennial. I always thought the superblock was where the parties happened," Wells chuckled.

"Sometimes," Clarke explained, tensing up at the talk about parties. "The superblock is almost exclusively freshman though, and it's right on campus. People don't get too wild. The real parties are at the fraternities in Dinkytown."

"By real parties Clarke means the ones full of assholes that get busted and guys that get arrested," Bellamy said, coming up beside Clarke as they crossed a street and sliding his hand into hers. Clarke appreciated the gesture, but she was actually doing alright despite the topic of conversation. Bellamy's hand was warm though, and her fingers were getting chilled as the sun set, so she didn't drop his hand, nor did she miss the flash of hurt on Wells' face.

Wells quickly looked away and started listing off the buildings he had classes in, which were mostly on the West Bank, considering that Wells was double majoring in business and finance, and the Carlson School of Business resided on the other side of the river that ran through campus.

On the way to the Washington Avenue Bridge which connected the two banks, they walked down Scholar Row, which showed notable alumni from the university and their discoveries, and they wandered through The Mall. The Mall was a favorite place of Clarke's; with the grassy expanses that always held outdoor studiers, or club meetings, or guys playing frisbee or SpikeBall. Huge trees lined The Mall, and the surrounding buildings were tall and brick and gothic looking.

"Wow, I don't think I ever realized how huge this campus is," Wells said, craning his neck to look around.

"Yeah. To be completely honest, I haven't even been everywhere. I've only been to the West Bank once or twice, since all my classes are on the East Bank. I don't have any reason to go over there."

"What about you, Bellamy? What are you studying?" Wells asked ariely.

"Uh, this and that," Bellamy said with a shrug. "I'm sort of undecided right now, but I'm kind of leaning towards education."

'Really?" Clarke interjected. She hadn't heard him say that before.

"Yeah," Bellamy said, looking down at her with a fond smile. "I like the idea of being a teacher."

Clarke smiled back at him. She liked that idea too.

"Hmm, the School of Education is pretty competitive. Have you applied yet?" Wells questioned narrowly.

"Nope," Bellamy said, looking unbothered. He lightly swung his arm, taking Clarke's along with him as he still held her hand, his fingers interlaced with hers.

They continued in silence towards the bridge, reaching it shortly.

The bridge was impressive and Clarke liked it. It spanned nearly a quarter mile across, seventy feet above the Mississippi River. On top, there was a covered section as well as an uncovered section. It was a nice break to get out of the wind.

Beneath the bridge, the Metro train rode, taking students from one bank to the other.

"Oh, look at all these," Wells exclaimed as they entered the covered section.

Along each of the walls, the various student clubs, organizations and sports teams each had a panel, about four feet wide and three feet high where they could paint and advertise their club. There were hundreds of them spanning the whole way. The artistic aspect of it drew Clarke's attention and the three of them walked quietly along the length of the bridge, looking at all the panels. Some were more tastefully done than others, with paintings depicting lacrosse sticks or a pair of latin dancers, while others were just hastily drawn in acronyms.

Clarke appreciated the beauty in it, because it was student art, as well as the fact that it was an inclusive display that anyone could be involved in.

"You should make one of these," Bellamy said.

"What? No, I'm pretty sure you have to be the president of the club to do one," Clarke dismissed Bellamy, even though she liked the suggestion. She'd by lying if she said she wasn't imagining how to design her own panel.

"Maybe. I dunno. I bet someone would hire you to do theirs for them." Bellamy snickered as he pointed to one with a white background with a stick figure draw on it. It only had a single word on it, like a command: RECYCLE.

Clark snorted. "Inspiring."

"Is there one for the Lettuce Club?" Wells asked.

"That what-now?"

"The Lettuce Club? You haven't heard of that?"

Clarke shook her head.

"I have," Bellamy said, almost begrudgingly.

"What is it?" Clarke asked Bellamy.

Wells jumped in to explain instead. "There is this club, the Lettuce Club, the only meets once a semester. They don't really have a purpose as far as I can tell, but they all get together and have a competition; whoever can eat an entire head of lettuce the fastest is elected the President, and they have to arrange next semester's meeting and provide the lettuce."

"What?" Clarke laughed. "That might be the dumbest thing I ever heard!"

"I know!" Wells laughed with her. "I think it's kinda cool though, you know? Who would think of something so silly?"

"I don't know! Maybe you should join."

"No way!" Wells said, at the same time as Bellamy said, "I probably ought to."

Apparently, they had both thought Clarke was talking to them. The boys shared a look. In the dimming light, it was hard to see what their expressions were, but Bellamy's hand tightened on Clarke's.

Clarke resisted him a little, pulling her hand back. Bellamy looked at her, immediately releasing her hand and looking concerned.

"I'm fine," she answered his unspoken question. "Hey, let's get some food now, I'm hungry."

"Sounds good to me!" Wells agreed.

They ended up at a rowdy bar and grille on the West Bank. To be honest, Clarke should have known better than to go out to eat anywhere that served alcohol on a Friday night, but oh well. They are here now and the close heat of the bar was welcome coming in from an hour out in the chilly fall air.

Clarke hovered close to Bellamy as they got their table, even though he looked a little dejected that she had pulled away from him. She couldn't explain it now, not will Wells so close, but his obvious jealousy made her uncomfortable. It had been cute, but only for a second.

"Will you order a drink for me, Clarke? I gotta run to the bathroom," Bellamy said, placing his jacket over the back of a chair. Clarke nodded and watched him walk away, shuffling sideways through the packed bar.

Left alone with Wells for the first time in over two years, she slid into her seat, smiling at him. All told, she felt a bit guilty for not wanting to do this alone with him.

Wells returned her smile and folded his hands on the table in front of him. He looked like he should be behind a mahogany desk in some important office rather than sitting in a college bar.

"Thanks for agreeing to meet me, Clarke. It really is good to see you."

"Of course. I'm glad you asked."

"I thought we'd be able to do a bit more catching up, but meeting some of your friends is all good too." Wells' tone hinted at disapproval, and the way he said the word _friend _sounded wistful, as if he hoped that was all Bellamy was to Clarke.

"I'm sorry. We will have to have a different night to do that. Bellamy walked in right as you called and I just thought I'd ask him along. I hadn't seen him all week and I just figured you wouldn't mind," Clarke explained.

Wells nodded. "Tell me about Bellamy. Is he always so cold?"

Clarke, a bit taken aback by the question, stuttered her answer. "C-cold? I wouldn't describe him as _cold. _He's quite… sweet, usually."

"Hmm." Wells leaned back in his seat, appraising. Clarke just stared at him. It seemed Bellamy wasn't the only jealous person in Clarke's company tonight.

Unable to hold her tongue any longer, she spoke out. "Look, Wells… I'm sorry how I left things, but that was two years ago. I know you didn't want to end our relationship, and I know I really hurt your feelings, but I just couldn't handle it then. I thought you understood, but you seem like you're still upset about it."

"I'm not upset about that, Clarke. Like you said, it was two years ago!" Wells' voice had an edge to it, contradicting his normally calm disposition. "What I am upset about, however, is the fact that you felt the need to flaunt your boyfriend in my face the second you saw me again."

"What?" Clarke snapped. "That's what you think I'm doing? Wells, c'mon. Does that seem like something I would do?"

Wells, recomposed now, said cooly, "I don't know Clarke. You basically haven't said a word to me in two years, how should I know what you're like now?"

That hurt. "I regret what I did, Wells. Is that what you want me to say? I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt your feelings, then or now," Clarke said, then added, "Besides, Bellamy isn't my boyfriend."

"You walked around holding hands with every boy you know now? Because I'd like to get on that list." Wells raised a brow and smirked, and Clarke knew their argument was over. Wells had never had the heart to stay mad at her for very long.

Clarke laughed. "No, not typically. Bellamy is special, though."

"I hope so. Because, you, Clarke, are special." Wells' words had the intensity of intimacy, but Clarke just smiled as if he had complimented her shirt.

"Thanks, Wells. I hope I didn't disappoint you."

"What do you mean?"

Clarke struggled to speak her mind. "I don't know if you thought that by transferring to Minnesota, we'd somehow-" Clarke shrugged. "-find our way back together or something."

Wells blinked and she knew that had been his idea, but the words out of his mouth denied it. "I didn't, but a guy can dream."

Clarke smiled and was spared having to find a response when a waitress came to their table. She ordered her typical ice water, and Coke for Bellamy, and remembered Wells' order from years past, an iced tea.

"You remembered?"

"Of course. We were only friends for our whole lives."

His smile was genuine and nostalgic, and Clarke found herself glad to have Wells back in her life. He was a good friend, he always had been, and always would be, even when she wasn't.

**AN_**

**Oh, jealous Bellamy! I have to be honest, I've never been a huge fan of Wells, but I wanted to included him in this story, if only for a small part. So here he is, in all his Clarke-obsessed glory. :)**

**Anyway, I hope everyone is staying healthy and safe, and (if you celebrate) that you have a wonderful Thanksgiving. It would mean the world to me if you left your thoughts on this chapter as we are nearing the end of this story.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Birch66724**


	39. Chapter 39

Bellamy watched from the corner of his eye as Wells dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. Dabbed at it, like it he was some kind of royalty with the finest silk napkin. In reality, he had just eaten a six dollar burger in a college bar.

The truth was, Bellamy didn't want to despise this guy, it's just, how could he not? The two of them were sort of complete opposites in every way possible. The only thing they had in common was Clarke. And Clarke, well, Clarke was worth despising Wells over he reasoned.

"Hey how is Charlotte doing?" Clarke asked as Wells pushed away his empty basket.

"Good! She's in highschool now, ninth grade. She's grown up a lot, I'm so proud of her."

"Oh, that's so good," Clarke said, then leaned over and explained to Bellamy, "Charlotte was a girl that Wells tutored a few years back. She had dyslexia, didn't she?"

"Yeah, but more than that she just hated school," Wells chuckled.

Tutoring a little girl was just such a Wells thing to do.

"Anything else I can grab for you tonight?" The waitress buzzed over to their table, setting down the check and gathering up their empty baskets.

"No, that'll be all, thank you very much," Wells said.

"Alright, you guys have a great night!" The waitress slipped back into the crowd that surrounded the bar. The place was packed and only getting busier by the minute. Clarke, however, seemed relatively at ease. Bellamy smiled to himself, remembering the first time he took her out to dinner, how when the bar got busy, she clung to him, afraid. Now, she was confident and comfortable and Bellamy thought that perhaps he needed her more than she needed him anymore.

As Clarke stood up from her chair beside him, shrugging her arms back into her jacket, Bellamy came back to the present moment, reaching for the check at the same time as Wells.

"Let me get it man," Bellamy said.

"No, that's alright. My treat for the campus tour."

Bellamy frowned. "It's fine. My meal was the most expensive, I'll pay."

"And I'm not even going to offer, because I know you'll both argue with me, so I'm leaving the tip," Clarke said, slapping a ten dollar bill on the table and making for the door.

Bellamy rolled his eyes fondly at her, then immediately scowled when Wells dropped a few more bills on the table.

"Really, don't pay for me. At least let me pay for my own meal."

"Relax, Bellamy, it's no big deal. Besides, it's my dad's money," Wells chuckled, walking away from the table.

Bellamy didn't find that funny. He picked up the haphazard pile of bills, folding them together so the busy waitress didn't have to. He noticed that in addition to paying for the entirety of the meal, Wells had also added an additional ten dollars to Clarke's tip. It left him with an unpleasant feeling. Wells clearly came from money and thought nothing of this. It unsettled Bellamy, like Wells didn't think he could pay his own way.

Trying to shake the feeling, Bellamy followed the others out into the night. Clarke was stuffing her hands deep into her jacket pockets, hopping from foot to foot, her breath coming out in foggy puffs. The clouds hung low and heavy in the sky, reflecting back the orange glow of the streetlights.

"It was sixty degrees in Oregon two days ago," Wells mumbled, clearly feeling the cold too. Bellamy smirked. The cold had never really bothered him, but it was always funny to see non-Minnesotans enjoying their first winter.

Yeah, I thought it was still fall," Clarke muttered.

Bellamy laughed. "Fall's already over, Princess. Only lasts about two weeks."

"That's ridiculous," she mumbled.

Wells' phone started ringing and he pulled it out with an apologetic glance at Clarke.

"What is it, Dad?" He answered, walking a few paces away. Bellamy watched him for a second before turning to Clarke, pleased to find her eyes on him.

"So," she said slowly. "That's Wells."

Bellamy nodded. "He's uh, he's a cool dude."

Clarke snorted, bumping Bellamy. "That's all you got?"

"Yeah. That's it," he chuckled. "He wasn't exactly what I was expecting, but I guess I can see how you guys are friends."

Clarke slowly shook her head, looking out over the street. "It feels like an entirely different lifetime when we were close. I feel like so much has changed since then, and I guess it has. I moved across the country and started college and met so many amazing new friends. And you. You've definitely changed me as a person, Bellamy."

Bellamy softened at her words, so gentle and warm. "You've changed me too, Clarke. I've never been-"

Wells interrupted their moment, returned from where he had taken his phone call. "Sorry, but I have to get back to the apartment."

Clarke tore her eyes away from Bellamy, blinking several times as if to break the spell that had just come over them.

"Why? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. My dad just forgot his new key to the apartment and I have the only other one." Wells flashed a silver key.

"Oh. That's too bad. Can't the front desk person let him in?"

"That's what I said, but turns out that the desk is only staffed until 6pm, so he'd have to call the apartment manager and they'd have to come down to let him in. We both figure it'll probably be quicker, and easier, if I just run home."

Clarke nodded. "Yeah, you're probably right. Plus, he doesn't want to make his landlord think he'll be a pain in the ass on the first day he moves in."

Wells laughed. "Good point, I never even thought about that one, Clarke."

Bellamy shuffled his feet, waiting as this conversation continued. He wanted to get back to whatever was going on between him and Clarke. Having Wells interrupt their moment brought a sense of urgency to him, and strong need to tell Clarke how he felt. He had to get it out on the table, tell her everything she meant to him and that it was killing him not to kiss her right now.

"...Right Bellamy?" Clarke nudged him, turning a suggestive look on him.

"Uh, yeah. Right," he said, making it clear that he had not been following the

conversation.

"You're free tomorrow to help Wells move his stuff from his dad's apartment to his new dorm?" Clarke filled him in.

Great. More time with Wells. "Yeah, absolutely. I'll make Miller and Murphy help too. We'll get you moved in in no time flat."

"Awesome, that's really nice of you, Bellamy."

"It is!" Clarke playfully grinned up at him. "Such a helpful man, my Bellamy."

Bellamy, getting hung up on the way Clarke said my Bellamy, tuned out of the conversation again. It couldn't have been too important considering they never asked for his input, leaving him free to try and keep his heart from pounding.

He couldn't help but feel a bit foolish, like he was thirteen years old and unable to control his emotions, but damn. Clarke could make his pulse spike with a single word. And she didn't even know she could do it. No one had ever made him feel so out of control, or so willing to give up control.

"Where is the nearest Metro stop from here, Bellamy?" Clarke asked. "I figured it would be faster for Wells to get back to his dad than walking across the bridge."

"Oh, yeah. It's just a few blocks from here." Bellamy pointed up the street and they started walking.

"So are you still going to bring me cookies to the library?" Wells asked.

"Huh?"

"Remember? When you would always bring treats to school because you would bake and have no one to eat the stuff you made?"

"Oh, yeah. Pretty sure that was the only reason you were my friend, Wells You just like baked goods."

"Guilty as charged," Wells said, but the way he touched Clarke's shoulder said something different.

This time though, it didn't make Bellamy stomach churn, because Clarke turned back towards him and held out a hand.

Bellamy readily took it, lacing his fingers through hers. "You need to get some gloves."

"I don't need gloves. I've got you."

Bellamy smiled, using his other hand to rub to the back of Clarke's cold knuckles.

"So you get to do any baking here? Aren't there community kitchens in the dorm basements?" Wells broke in, sounding a bit awkward.

"Not much. I don't have the time, I've been so busy with other stuff. But I did make a cake once."

"Mmm, german chocolate," Bellamy sighed. The memory was sharp in his mind, one of his favorites with Clarke. It was one of the first times he had seen her happy, seen her doing something she enjoyed and was good at.

"What were you baking a cake for? Was it someone's birthday or something?" Wells asked.

"Not exactly," Clarke gave a sly grin to Bellamy. "It's a funny story. Well actually, not really."

"What? I have to hear this now."

"Well, it was kind of an apology cake."

"An apology cake? I've never heard of such a thing."

"Okay, maybe not an apology, but a thank you."

"Sure. Why?"

Clarke stalled, then laughed lightly. "You really want to know? It's kinda… unpleasant."

"Of course, I gotta know now," Wells pressed.

Clarke cringed. "Honestly, Bellamy should tell you. I don't remember half of it."

Bellamy snorted and said bluntly, "Clarke threw up all over the bathroom and then passed out on the floor."

"What?! Jeez, were you okay?"

Clarke, laughing from Bellamy's explanation, said, "Oh yeah. I made it seem like I was having a rough night, but really, I just needed a way to get my roommates to clean the bathroom."

"That's one way to do it, I suppose," Wells said, amused.

"And I found my knight in shining armour to come pick me up off the floor, so thanks Bellamy."

"Hey, it was well worth that cake."

"Yeah, it was really good. Too bad Wells doesn't like coconut."

"Your loss man," Bellamy said unapologetically.

"Yeah, indeed it is," Wells replied, and somehow Bellamy knew it was about more than a cake.

They stepped into the circle of light emanating from the bright streetlamps at the Metro stop and Wells was staring at Clarke. He looked defeated, and Bellamy almost felt bad for the guy. He had clearly been expecting his reunion with Clarke to go differently than it had.

He decided that the thing that set him and Wells apart was their tenacity. If Bellamy had come back into Clarke's life after two years, which was implausible because he was never going to leave, but assuming he did, he would not be so resigned after a couple of hours. If he felt the way he felt now, there would be nothing that would make him give up on her. Not even some new guy in her life.

"I don't know how close this is going to get to the apartment complex, but it'll definitely take you most of the way there," Clarke said, looking at the posted map of the Metro lines.

"Good. Anything to get me out of the cold."

Clarke laughed. "Really? I don't think it's so bad now. It was just so warm in the bar that when we came outside, it felt freezing."

"True. And this is nothing compared to what it'll feel like in February. Better get a good winter coat, Wells, because it's going to get fifty degrees colder than this in a few months."

"Fifty? You mean it's going to be below zero?"

"Oh yeah. All the time."

Wells huffed. "Can't wait to get hypothermia on my way to class."

"Added bonus of the U of M."

The Metro transit pulled up, groaning on it's tracks as it came to a halt.

"Do you want to walk back, if you're suddenly feeling so warm now, Princess?" Bellamy asked, an idea sparking in his head.

Clarke nodded without hesitation. "Sure. Plus, I think the Metro would upset my stomach after I ate so much food at dinner."

"I guess I'll see you guys tomorrow then?" Wells said, backing away from them, towards the waiting train.

"Yep! Have a great night Wells!"

He nodded, then locked eyes with Bellamy. "Take care." Of Clarke.

Bellamy heard the unspoken words and nodded, clutching Clarke's hand tighter. Wells disappeared amid the people exiting the train, swallowed up by the mirrored doors.

The Metro zipped away with a rush of cold air and the relative silence that followed it's noise was heavy.

"C'mon," Clarke said, tugging Bellamy's arm as she started walking. "You better make this walk worth it and tell me what's on your mind."

Trying not to falter, he said, "Huh? What do you mean?"

Clarke spun around and walked backwards for a few seconds, cocking a brow at him. Bellamy pulled her back around where she leaned into his side. Neither of them spoke as they continued on back the way they had come, towards the bridge and East Bank and their warm, waiting dorm rooms.

But first, Bellamy was determined to get some things off his chest and into the open. Perhaps the chill in the air would be a motivator...

Clarke started chatting, telling Bellamy about this Shaw character who had come to her dorm, supposedly to tutor Raven. He half listened, still trying to think out what exactly he wanted to say to her.

Should he start by saying how great of a person she was? Or how he was proud of her? No, then he would sound like her father… and talking about her dead father wasn't something Bellamy didn't want to bring up.

Perhaps he should say how his life was so different before he met her. He could say that his life lacked meaning and purpose and she came into his life like a burst of color in an otherwise black and white world. Maybe not, that sounded like a line from a Hallmark movie.

Maybe he could say that no one had ever made him feel like this before. He could bare his soul and admit that the love he felt for Clarke terrified him. That he couldn't think about a single thing harming her without his pulse racing. That might not give her the right idea though.

He could just come right out and say, I love you.

He could. And the logical part of him knew that she would say it back. But what if she thought he was just saying it as friends? He needed to lead into that, he had to say something that would-

"Earth to Bellamy! Hey, space cadet," Clarke said playfully.

"Uh, what? Sorry." Bellamy shook his head. They were nearly halfway back across the Washington Ave. Bridge and he hadn't even noticed.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on in your head? I've never seen you so spacey."

Bellamy metally steadied himself, steering Clarke towards the railing of the bridge. She looked momentarily puzzled but did not resist, instead dropping his hand and leaning over the bridge to peer down at the Mississippi flowing below. With the clouds so low in the sky, the light from the buildings was reflected back down and shimmered on the water in a myriad of colors that flashed and danced on the black surface of the water.

Clarke looked back at him patiently, awaiting his words. Bellamy never considered himself a coward, but instead of saying what he intended, he said, "You know, there is a university in Japan that has a bridge like this and they had to put huge nets below it because there were so many students jumping off at one point."

Clarke looked horrified and Bellamy mentally smacked himself. Of all the things to say, why did he say that?

"That's awful," she commented, looking back over the edge of the railing. "Do you think you'd die if you hit the water from this height?"

Again, that stricken feeling came over Bellamy at the mere thought of injury befalling Clarke. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders to calm himself.

"I have no idea and I never want to find out."

"Me either. I don't know what I would do if something happened to you, Bellamy."

Bellamy's mouth went dry. Here was Clarke, creating a perfect segway into his intended conversation, fixing his mistake and righting things. She just got him.

"Don't worry Princess, I'm not going anywhere," he said. Clarke sighed softly, leaning into him, and somehow, she soothed his anxieties. Whenever she was around, Bellamy couldn't be more content. Why he had any apprehensions about admitting his feelings to her, finally putting to words the deepest desires of his heart, he did not know. With Clarke, everything was always just right.

She gasped softly and pulled away. "Bellamy!"

"What?"

Clarke whirled around, her blue eyes bright with unbridled excitement. "It's snowing!"

"Huh?" Bellamy glanced around, and sure enough, tiny snowflakes were coming down. They were few and far between, and so small you would see them unless you were really looking.

"Oh wow," Clarke breathed, spinning in a slow circle. Bellamy watched her as the precipitation increased quickly, turning from a slight flurry to an honest to goodness snowfall. The snowflakes grew fat and puffy, swaying in the air, taking the longest possible route to the ground. They obscured the surrounding city until the ends of the bridge couldn't even be seen.

Clarke giggled. "No one told me it was going to snow before Halloween."

"Sometimes," Bellamy said, grinning at Clarke as the snowflakes started to settle in her hair and on her shoulders. One caught on her eyelashes and sparkled in the light for a brief moment before melting away.

"It's so beautiful."

"It sure is."

Clarke's eyes focused on his, and Bellamy held her gaze until the only thing left moving in the whole world was the swirling snow. A silence descended on the bridge, on the little island that had formed, isolating the two of them from everything. It was a familiar silence to Bellamy, the kind that always accompanied snow, when all noise was absorbed into the whiteness and everything felt at peace. It was the type of silence that could make you feel as though you were the only living being around if you let it.

Clarke's eyes were the only anchor, the only thing that kept Bellamy from drifting off into the silence around them. She was looking at him as if Bellamy himself moved heaven and Earth. Bellamy knew she heard the silence, but found him as to not be alone. In that moment, there could be no doubt that Clarke felt the same way about him as he did about her, and words came easily and of their own volition.

"Clarke, I've known since the moment I met you, you were special. It didn't matter that I found you at the lowest point in your life, because even then, you were the most beautiful person I had ever seen. I felt an instant connection with you, and everyday it has grown stronger and stronger. I hated the fact that you were suffering, but I loved that it was me that got to help you through it. Every moment I spent with you, I learned more and more about you, how you're an amazing artist and the smartest person I know, and that you love cheesy romance movies even though you pretend not to, and your favorite drink is water. How boring."

At that, Clarke giggled softly, smiling warmly at Bellamy. Her eyes shimmed as if on the brink of tears, but her face was glowing. Bellamy stepped towards her and pulled her to him.

"You are so compassionate and committed to your friends, and you are so, so strong."

Clarke wrapped her arms around Bellamy's middle, hiding her face in his jacket.

"You're the bravest person I have ever met, Clarke. You deserve the world and I want to be the one to help you get it."

"Thank you, for saying that," Clarke whispered, leaning back to look him in the eyes. Then she said matter-of-factly, "You should kiss me now."

Bellamy smirked and did just that. He kissed Clarke for all he was worth where they stood on the bridge. Nothing else existed but the two of them, cocooned in their very own snowy world. If there was nothing else out there but Clarke and an endless whitewashed landscape, it would be enough for Bellamy. Clarke was his everything.

She pulled back from their kiss, which had been just as sweet as the first. "Bellamy," she murmured.

"Clarke," he said back, unable to stop smiling at her beautiful face. The snow was coming down in earnest, covering her jacket and hair in a fine layer of white. Her eyes sparkled and her breath escaped in a foggy cloud.

He thought he could stare at her forever. She was right where she belonged and Bellamy never wanted her to leave.

"I love you, Clarke."

The snow-filled silence after his words was deafening.

Bellamy watched Clarke as her eyes widened and then closed blissfully. Her face split into a brilliant smile as she reached up to cup Bellamy's face with her chilly hands.

"I love you too, Bellamy Blake. More than you could ever know."

AN_

Hi. :) Yay. I love Bellarke with all my heart.

This chapter is on the shorter side, but our final chapter is quite long, so you can look forward to that. I am just about done writing it, then my lovely beta, kyliEisMC2, will fix all my silly mistakes like some kind of editing wizard, and it should be posted next week. I am so excited to finish this story, but so sad at the same time.

I again want to say an enormous thank you to everyone who has left a review. It is truly the best thing ever to hear from someone who has enjoyed reading my story and makes me sooo happy. Thank you to the Guest review I received this morning, it was very sweet and I hope you liked this chapter.

Thanks for reading!

-Birch66724


	40. Chapter 40

"I think Shaw must still be there," Clarke said brightly from where she was leaning with her ear pressed into the door of her dorm room.

Bellamy cocked his head to the side, clearly having forgotten who that was already. His black hair was wet from their walk home in the snow and stuck to his forehead in stringy curls.

"You know, the guy who came to tutor Raven?" Clarke prompted, pulling back from the door.

"Oooh, yeah. Sorry, I was a bit distracted when you were telling me about that." He smiled unapologetically.

Clarke scoffed and rolled her eyes in mock indignation. Her heart rate was ticking up again and she remembered what Bellamy had said on the bridge.

_He loved her. _

The thought made Clarke feel like she could fly, but she would be lying if it didn't also scare the living daylights out of her. What were her and Bellamy now? They had certainly passed out of the realm of friendship, but had yet to formally cross the threshold of anything else.

Clarke coughed in an attempt to clear her scattered thoughts. "Well, I don't want to interrupt them, it's good for Raven to meet someone new and it really seems like they get along, seeing that Shaw has been here for almost four hours now."

Bellamy nodded. "Wanna come hangout in my room for a bit? We can watch a cheesy romance movie."

Clarke giggled as Bellamy waggled his eyebrows. "You're such a dork. C'mon."

Bellamy chuckled and together they walked back down the hall, which was mysteriously empty and quiet for a Friday night.

Clarke ran her fingers through her own wet hair as they walked, feeling her damp jacket stick to her skin. She couldn't wait to take it off. As soon as they had entered the warm brightness of Frontier Hall, all the snow that had fallen on them had melted in the blink of an eye, soaking them to the skin. She didn't entirely mind though, because Bellamy looked awfully cute with wet hair.

"Welcome to my humble abode, my Princess." Bellamy swept the door open in a grand gesture.

Clarke giggled. "Wow! Such an extravagant accommodation. These cinder block walls are simply exquisite, were they imported from overseas?"

"Absolutely. Only the finest for Princess Griffin." Bellamy helped Clarke out of her jacket and lay it over the back of his desk chair to dry before shrugging off his own.

"You spoil me, really, how can I ever repay you for such kindness?" Clarke batted her eyelashes, relishing in their silly conversation.

"All I ask, my lady, is a kiss."

"I suppose that could be arranged," Clarke giggled as she leaned into Bellamy's lips. How had she gone her whole life without this? Hell, how had she even gone through all of this week without his mouth on hers?

Bellamy's hair was cold where it brushed her temple, and his cheeks were flushed from their walk in the night air, but were warming quickly under Clarke's touch. He smiled against her mouth when Clarke splayed her hand over his heart.

"What?" she asked coyly, not opening her eyes or pulling away.

"Nothin'. You just make me so happy."

It was something straight out of one of those 'cheesy' romance movies Belamy chided her and Raven for watching, but it wasn't so cheesy when someone said it, and meant it, in real life. It was actually incredibly touching and lovely to hear.

"Glad to be of service," Clarke said lightly, pulling her face back marginally just to get another look at Bellamy.

To look at the man who _loved _her.

Bellamy only sighed, a sound of contentment and ran a hand down her face. "Want to change into something dry? Your skin is still cold."

"Yeah, I do," Clarke ran a hand up and down her arms, which had an unpleasant clammy stickiness to them. "I guess I can run upstairs real quick, they'll hardly notice I'm there if I just grab some clothes and duck out."

Bellamy frowned and shook his head, pulling out a drawer under his bed and producing a t-shirt. He raised a brow and held it out to Clarke.

Clarke tried not to blush as she took his offering. Oh, to wear borrowed clothes, especially ones that smelled of Bellamy. She quietly went into his bathroom, which for some reason, she had completely forgotten was shared with Monty and Jasper.

Jasper's chemistry goggles on the sink and the carboy in the shower jogged her memory though, and she made sure to lock the door to the adjacent room prior to stripping off her damp clothes. Before she slipped the t-shirt over her head though, she clutched it to her face and inhaled the scent. Maybe it was stupid, but it was incredibly comforting. And Bellamy smelled amazing. The fabric was soft and well worn, meaning it was probably one of his go-tos. That alone was enough to make Clarke weak in the knees; to be bestowed with his favorite shirt.

The shirt hung to her midthigh, but Clarke debated whether or not to take off her leggings too. She kept them on in the end, because they were only really damp around the ankles. She quickly brushed her hands through her messy hair and looked at herself in the smudged mirror for a moment. Her cheeks were flushed and hair was an absolute sight, but she looked _happy. _Clarke couldn't remember the last time she looked at herself and thought that she looked happy. Life had been a whirlwind the last several months, but Bellamy was her calm in the storm.

And he loved her.

Letting herself out of the bathroom, she found Bellamy frowning at his remote, smacking it on his palm. He had taken the opportunity to change as well, into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. His hair was even more tousled than before and Clarke longed to comb her fingers through it, knowing just how much Bellamy would enjoy that.

"I think my remote is out of batteries," he mumbled, turning towards her. Clarke couldn't help but blush at the way he stared at her.

His eyes made her feel like the most beautiful girl in the world, even though her face was void of any makeup and her hair was begging to have a comb run through it.

"Thanks for the shirt," she said lamely, plucking at the hem for something to do with her restless hands.

Bellamy gave a relaxed smile. "Absolutely. And trust me Princess, it looks way better on you."

Clarke rolled her eyes, turning away. "The Gophers are playing tonight, right? We could probably still catch the last quarter."

"Yes, football!" Bellamy said, manually turning on the television and switching to the right station to watch the game. Their team was getting blown out by Ohio State, 7 - 30, so the game served as little more than background noise.

Clarke sat on the edge of Bellamy's bed and he soon joined her as the TV cast shifting blue light over the room.

In an attempt to ignore the mounting _feelings _in the room, Clarke watched the game. But she really only watched it with her eyes; her mind was in a completely different place. She couldn't help but picture herself climbing onto Bellamy's lap and kissing him senseless right now, but the second the image filled her mind and made her stomach leap, she forced it out.

Here she was, sitting next to the man she loved, the man who loved her back, despite her flaws, and she couldn't think of a thing to say to him. Part of her wanted to get the tricky stuff out of the way right now, they needed to talk about what this meant for them. Like, were they dating now? Bellamy hadn't specifically asked her to be his girlfriend, but she couldn't imagine that she _wasn't. _

Not to mention that she desperately wanted to call Bellamy Blake her boyfriend. With that thought, she turned her head to see him and found him looking at her with a languid smile hanging on his lips.

"What?" Clarke questioned.

Bellamy hummed. "Nothin' Princess. What are you thinking about?"

"You, of course," Clarke scoffed and picked up Bellamy's hand. She fiddled with his fingers, flipping his hand over to trace along the lines of his palm, bumping over his callouses, tracing a jagged scar on his thumb, rubbing his smooth fingernails. Her dad used to say that you could tell a lot about a man from his hands.

"What about me?" he asked coyly.

Clarke maintained her focus on his hand which remained slack, permissible to her exploration. His callouses remained as evidence of his summers working construction, but his nails were neat and trimmed, perfect little half moons atop his strong fingers. Each mark had a story behind it, and Clarke felt a certain longing to know those tales, to learn the tiny, intimate details of this man.

Clarke took a quick deep breath to build the courage to put her thoughts in words. "I don't know, just -what are we now, Bell?"

Bellamy paused a moment, his hand stiffening before he reached up and tipped Clarke's chin towards him so she would look him in the eyes.

"That's up to you. What do you want to be?" His deep brown eyes were imploring, patient, and so tender.

Why was he so perfect?

Clarke smiled softly. She wanted to be in a relationship with Bellamy. More than anything, that's what she wanted. She wanted to fall asleep in his arms and wake up to him kissing her. She wanted to hold his hand when they walked down the street, and she wanted Raven to relentlessly tease them anytime they were together, because Clarke knew that Bellamy would only smile sweetly and kiss Clarke to egg Raven on.

She wanted someone to come home with her at Christmas time so she didn't have to spend the holiday break, sitting alone in her house, while her mother was at work for fourteen hours a day. She wanted someone who could make her laugh until her sides hurt, but who would also listen to her deepest, darkest fears.

She wanted someone who she could always trust, who would always have her back and would never let her down. She wanted to be all that, and more, for someone too.

_That _was what she wanted.

Bellamy was what she wanted.

"I want you, Bellamy. Everything about you, I want it."

"That's all I've ever wanted to hear you say, Clarke."

Clarke fell into his arms, feeling on the verge of tears and his arms wrapped her up, tugging her close, so close. She could feel his heart thrumming in his chest and his breaths gentle on her hair.

"And I want every part of you, all of it."

Clarke burrowed deeper into his hold, acknowledging all of the times that Bellamy had held her, comforted her, soothed her. The first time it happened was in this very room, when Clarke had turned to him in her most vulnerable of moments because he had stuck out his hand, and his heart, to help her. Without Bellamy's wholehearted commitment to Clarke's wellbeing, despite not owing her a single thing, she didn't know if she'd still be here today.

This moment was a culmination of everything they had gone through up until now. All of the conversations and laughter and tears, everything had led to now. The course of Clarke's life had switched drastically over the past few months, but somehow, all of the heartache and pain might be justified if it allowed her to be here now.

"Before anything though, I need to tell you something," Bellamy said, his voice a bit strained.

Clarke pulled back, twinged with concern as she questioned him with her gaze.

He swallowed and looked away, bringing his hands to settle on Clarke's knees, thumbs rubbing calming circles on her leggings.

"What is it?" Clarke prompted when Bellamy didn't say anything for several seconds. Her stomach was flooding with anxiety, dreading the words to come. She couldn't even imagine what he was going to say, but anything to make him look so conflicted couldn't be good.

Bellamy cleared his throat and focused his eyes on Clarkes', his face apprehensive and almost apologetic. Clarke frowned, placing her hands atop his to still them.

"I don't want to tell you this, because it doesn't mean anything to me, _at all," _he said firmly. Clarke's unease grew. "I don't want to make you think less of me, or to lose trust in me_. _But, I think I need to in order for us to start off on the right foot, because I don't want to have any secrets from you, okay?"

"Okay," Clarke said, her voice barely a whisper. Her mind was blank except for a formidable amount of dread.

"I- you know the night right before I left for Arkadia State Park, the day before Raven got released from the hospital, remember?"

"Yes."

"Well, I went to get help on one of my assignments from a classmate, Echo. I don't know if you know her, she's the sister of one of the dodgeball guys."

"Yeah, I met her that first time, when she invited us to the bar but we went to play bingo instead." Clarke nodded, not connecting the dots of this conversation.

"Oh yeah, right. I forgot about that."

Clarke nodded more fervently, narrowing her eyes as her suspicion rose. "I remember because she was hitting on you. It was weird because she wasn't even trying to be subtle about it, she was all up in your face."

Bellamy cringed and looked to the floor. "Yeah. That's Echo…" he trailed off.

It all clicked then, and in her head, Clarke knew what he was going to admit to next, but she also didn't let herself think it. Until she heard the words out of Bellamy's mouth, she would refuse to believe it.

A pregnant pause came and went, in which Clarke stiffened under Bellamy's touch and he looked back up to meet her eyes, his expression pained.

"I went to see her because she was the only person I knew in that whole English class. And I should have known better, but I still went. And well, she was really helpful and I got the assignment nearly all done, but we both knew why she agreed to help me. Why she suggested we meet in her dorm."

Clarke's chest twisted painfully. Bellamy's eyes were somber as he confirmed what Clarke had suspected.

"We ended up having sex, but it didn't mean anything to me, Clarke, I swear to God. It was stupid and I regretted it immediately."

Sharp stabs of betrayal rooted themselves in Clarke's gut. It wasn't her right to feel that way, because it wasn't as if Bellamy belonged to her then. Or now. But she still felt like he had slapped her across the face.

"Clarke?" His voice was pleading. "Oh Clarke, please look at me, Princess. I didn't want to tell you but I would never feel right if I didn't. This doesn't change a single thing I said to you, because I meant every word of it."

Clarke slid her legs off Bellamy's and stood, facing away from him. She was struggling to reign in the emotions which were running rampant through her mind. Confusion, hurt, anger, jealously. She had no right to feel any of them, which made it even hard to get her breathing under control.

"I'm glad you told me," Clarke finally managed to say, her voice steadier than she thought it would be.

"Me too. I feel better about it already. I want to put it behind me, behind us, and I couldn't do that unless I got it out in the open, and I'd rather you know about it now, from me, than from someone else in the future."

Clarke nodded, still facing away from him. She was honestly glad he had said it, because if he hadn't done it now, she might have actually had the right to feel betrayed by him later down the line.

"I-I don't want to ruin the night we had, Clarke. I just wouldn't feel right about moving forward with anything between us if I didn't tell you."

She appreciated that, she really did. But that didn't make it any easier to hear. Clarke took several moments to compose herself, in which time Bellamy sat silently behind her, before turning to face him.

Alarmed to find him with a tear streaked down his cheek, Clarke rushed to brush it away. She hadn't wanted to make him so upset. Holding his face in her hands, she looked down at him, and there could be no doubt that what he had said was the truth.

"Don't cry," Clarke pleaded softly.

Bellamy blinked and swallowed. "I thought I'd just ruined what we'd barely started. And that would break my heart."

Clarke smiled softly at his authenticity. "You could never. I don't know if you could ever do anything big enough to scare me away."

He placed his hand over Clarke's and interlaced their fingers. Clarke marveled at their joined hands, which fit together so perfectly it seemed they were made for one another.

"It truly meant nothing?"

"Nothing at all. In fact, it made me realize how I actually felt about you, Clarke. I realized that I felt more connected to you just by holding your hand or giving you a hug. I realized that I couldn't live without you. That I needed you."

Clarke furrowed her brow. "Why'd you go away then? To the park? Why didn't you come back to the hospital and tell me?"

Bellamy looked away as if ashamed. "I was scared, Clarke. And I was so overwhelmed. Up until that point, I had been suppressing everything I felt for you because I didn't know if you would want it. You were still healing, which you had every right to do, but every time I saw you, it was all I could do to stop myself from kissing you. I was so terrified of scaring you away, that I had convinced myself that just being your friend would be enough. And when I finally admitted to myself that it wouldn't be, I didn't know what to do. I couldn't face you. I- I needed time to think, to figure out what I should do. I couldn't live without you, but I couldn't live with you if you would never love me back the way I loved you."

Another tear leaked out of Bellamy's eye and Clarke leaned down and kissed it away.

"I can't believe you ever doubted that I love you," she said.

Bellamy's eyes widened. "You mean, you felt the same way? The whole time?"

Clarke rolled her eyes and giggled. "Of course. Have you met yourself? You're perfect in literally every way. How could I not fall in love with you?"

Bellamy chuckled deep in his throat, leaning into Clarke's hand. "When did you know?"

"Huh?"

"When did you know that you were madly, deeply, irreversibly in love with me?" Bellamy asked.

"Okay Mr. Sappy!" Clarke giggled, sitting back beside Bellamy. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled them both back so they were leaning against his pillows.

"I'm serious! When did you know?"

"Uhhm…" Clarke thought back. When was the first time she realized she felt something deeper than friendship for him? "I don't know, a long time ago, I guess. Maybe that night you came to get me at Target, because I couldn't walk home in the dark. But I didn't really let myself feel it."

"Why not?"

"Because. Because of what Finn did to me and because Octavia was my roommate and your sister and because I didn't know if I could ever…" Clarke's throat closed up.

"Ever what?"

"Ever… ever let another man touch me."

Bellamy was silent for a moment, then hugged her tighter. "Clarke, I will never _never _do anything with you that you don't want. I promise that on my life."

Clarke snuggled into him. "I know. I know you wouldn't. It's just… how could I ever be in a relationship if I wasn't ready to give all of myself like that?"

"Are you serious?" Bellamy's tone made Clarke stiffen. "You thought that I would want to be in a relationship with you because you weren't ready to have _sex?" _

"Yeah." Clarke's voice was small.

"Oh Princess. I couldn't care if you wouldn't even let me kiss you on the cheek. I'd still want you to be my girlfriend."

Clarke smiled, her heart swelling at Bellamy's words. Somehow he always knew just what to say to reassure her fears, to make her feel safe and cherished and loved.

"Is that what you want me to be? Your girlfriend?" Clarke hardly dared ask.

Bellamy shuffled them into a seated position so he could look her in the eyes.

"Clarke Griffin, will you be my girlfriend?"

"Of course, Bellamy Alexander Blake." Clarke grinned, her heart so full it threatened to burst. How long had she been wanting this moment? It felt a long time coming, and yet sudden at the same time. She sure hadn't imagined that this was how her night was going to end when she agreed to go out with Wells tonight.

"May I kiss you?" Bellamy asked. He looked so happy and Clarke was honored to be the reason why.

"Absolutely," Clarke said.

Their kiss wasn't as tender as the first, or as passionate as the one that they shared on the bridge, but it was amazing all the same because neither of them could seem to wipe the smiles off their faces long enough to actually kiss the other.

Clarke swung her leg over Bellamy and straddled his legs, cupping his face with one hand and running her hand down his chest with the other. Bellamy's hands settled on her waist as he kissed her until she was breathless.

Pulling back, Clarke grinned from ear to ear again. "I sure am glad you don't have a roommate."

"Why?" Bellamy flashed a devilish grin, and in one swift maneuver, flipped Clarke over so she was flat on her back in the bed. She shrieked with laughter as Bellamy snuggled into her, his breath tickling her neck.

"You're crazy," Clarke managed between bouts of laughter.

"Crazy in love with you," he shot back slyly, looking rather proud of his comeback.

"You're lucky that I love you back, or I would make fun of you so much for that line."

"Good thing then."

"Yeah, it sure is."

* * *

Bellamy only snored a little bit. Well, it was more like heavy breathing than snoring.

Clarke sighed softly, staring at the fraying edge of the blanket. Bellamy was still soundly asleep, pressed up against Clarke's back. Soft dawn light filtered through the window, painting the room dove grey and peaceful. It was probably nearing eight AM, and they were supposed to meet Wells across town at ten. Clarke knew she should probably wake Bellamy and go get ready, but she couldn't do it. Not just yet.

She had fallen asleep in Bellamy's bed at some point last night, and he had been kind enough not to disrupt her. They had cuddled up together to watch the rest of the miserable football game, then laid awake in the dark, just talking. They had talked about everything and nothing, discussing various topics from ice cream flavors to childhood birthday parties to their own insecurities. Clarke felt like she had never known anyone better in her whole life, and she had only known Bellamy for a few months. Something told her that she would know him for the rest of her life though.

And, when she had woken up this morning, they were still in the same position. Despite Bellamy's twin size bed and his single, lumpy pillow, Clarke had never been more comfortable in all her life.

Through the wall, Clarke could faintly hear Jasper and Monty talking. Bellamy had texted the guys last night and got them to agree to help move Wells in. If they were up, that meant it was past time for her and Bellamy to get moving.

But, Bellamy's hand resting on the dip of her waist and his easy, sleepy breaths made her hesitate. She wanted to lay here for a million years, because here, she was safe and warm and protected. Here, she was loved.

"Get your ass up!" A voice accompanied by insanely loud banging on the door made Clarke start so hard she might've grazed the ceiling.

Bellamy, jolted from sleep, with a similar reaction and ended up on the floor beside the bed, taking all of the blankets with him and smacking his head on the nightstand.

"Son uhv a-" he muttered groggily.

"Bellamy Blake! Open this door!"

Clarke was frozen for a moment, feeling like she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. One glance at Bellamy, with his sleep-ruffled hair and confused, irritated expression, and she was giggling.

"What?" His face quickly shifted to a grin as he balled up the blankets and threw them at her before he heaved himself up off the floor.

"I will break this door down, so help me God if it is not opened in the next-"

Bellamy yanked open the door, nearly toppling Raven where she stood, her fist raised for another round of obnoxious knocking.

Raven completely bypassed Bellamy, limping around him until she could see Clarke, sitting with her legs crossed on his bed. Then, the most satisfied, smug grin to ever exist spread across her face.

"Figured I'd find you here, _Clarke." _

A blush spread furiously across Clarke's face, even faster than Ravens grin had appeared.

"And how long did _your _guest stay last night?" Clarke said the first thing that came to mind, scrambling off the bed. Bellamy stood in the doorway, staying out of the whole conversation, but Clarke knew he wasn't too upset about the intrusion based on his coy smile.

"Oh, Shaw and I took _full advantage _of the fact that you were out last night." Raven waggled her eyebrows.

"Raven!" Clarke shrieked, pretending to act horrified but unable to stop laughing.

"What? Like you weren't doing the same thing!"

"I most certainly was not! Bellamy!" Clarke cried, looking for backup.

Bellamy only smirked and shrugged his shoulders, his own nefarious grin on his lips. Raven crumpled onto the bed in laughter, then sprung back up.

"Better not sit here! I don't know what's on these sheets!"

Clarke huffed and stopped trying to hide her extreme embarrassment. Seeing Raven laugh this hard was so refreshing, and something that Clarke hadn't seen for weeks. Clarke shook her head, joined in, burying her face in her hands. She and Bellamy _hadn't _done a thing besides kiss last night, but that didn't stop her mortification at the very implication of it. Clarke didn't feel ready to delve straight into a physical relationship, but when she was ready, Bellamy was the only one she would want to do that with. And he knew it. And he, being the sweetest man alive, was perfectly willing to be patient and understanding with her.

"It's okay, Princess." Bellamy snuggled up to her, just as amused as Raven.

Clarke rolled her eyes playfully. "You two are too much this early in the morning."

"What did I do?" Bellamy whined, burying his face into her neck.

Clarke groaned, pushing him back, which only resulted in her getting the most convincing set of puppy-dog eyes ever.

Raven's laughter had wound down, replaced by an admiring grin. "In all seriousness though, this is good." She gestured to the pair of them.

"I agree," Bellamy said instantly.

"And, it's been a long time coming. I have a sense for this sort of thing, you know."

"Yeah, yeah. You were right, Raven. Smartest person alive blah blah blah."

"Thank you for realizing my greatness. But really, I'm so happy for you two, like, I have never seen two people more made for each other than Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin. Consider the cutest couple award yours."

Clarke smiled, happy to hear validation of her own feelings. She and Bellamy did seem truly made for one another.

"Really? Sounds like you and this Shaw guy are going to give us some competition," Bellamy teased.

Now it was Raven's turn to blush, but damn her, it was hardly visible under her tan skin. "We'll have to see. I've roped him into this whole moving thing too, because I don't think I'll be too much help." She patted her leg, bringing the mood back to a more serious tone.

"Yeah right. We both know you just wanted to keep him around a little bit longer."

Raven smirked. "Come on Clarke! Give Bellamy back his shirt and come get dressed. We should get going within the hour. Plus, I'm excited to meet this Wells guy, what's he like?"

"Nothin' special, I guess," Clarke shrugged.

"You can say that again."

"See? Same wavelength!" Raven still looked awfully pleased with herself as she turned and left the dorm room. It was almost as if she credited herself for orchestrating Bellamy and Clarke's newfound relationship. And perhaps in a way she had. Raven had been the one who had forced Clarke to figure out her real feelings for Bellamy. Without her insistence, Clarke would have continued to stubbornly refuse to acknowledge them. And she would have missed out on all this. It had been Raven who convinced her to go after Bellamy when he disappeared off to Arkadia State Park, and it had been Raven who had called Clarke out on her not so stubble flirting with Bellamy weeks ago.

"I should go get ready," Clarke admitted. "You should too."

Bellamy gave an exaggerated frown. "What? You don't like me in this?"

Clarke chuckled. "No, you look great. But it's like, twenty degrees out. You might want to put on a sweatshirt or something."

"Hmm, fair enough," Bellamy agreed, sweeping an arm around Clarke's waist and kissing her before ushering her out the door. "See you in a bit, Princess."

Clarke smiled all the way back to her room.

She had to dodge more teasing from Raven and slap a hand over her friend's mouth when Harper came in, because Clarke wasn't sure she was ready for _everyone _to know her news yet.

She shot Raven a look as Octavia followed, and thankful, she had enough respect for Clarke that she didn't say anything more.

Shaw met them in the hall, and Raven introduced him to the other girls. A few minutes later, the entire group, including Miller, Murphy, Jasper, and Monty, converged in the lobby. They were only waiting on Bellamy, who Monty said had decided last minute to take a shower. That got Raven to smirk in Clarke's direction. Yet again.

Jasper got Shaw talking about some computer geek stuff while they were waiting just as Clarke received a call from her mother. She inwardly groaned as she walked a few steps away from the noisy group and accepted the call.

"Hello?"

"_Clarke? Hi. How are you doing?"_

A pleasant greeting. How odd. "Pretty good. You?"

"_I'm great! I just wanted to call you, check in."_

"Oh yeah? No reason?" Clarke asked, rolling her eyes, knowing better.

"_Well, now that you ask…"_

Clarke laughed lightly. She was in too good of a mood for her mother's aloofness to drive her crazy today. "What is it?"

"_A couple things, actually. I finally got a chance to look at Raven's scans and the recording of Raven's surgery."_

"A recording?" Clarke hadn't known that was a thing, and had to admit she was slightly interested in seeing that herself sometime.

"_Yeah, it was pretty interesting, and I have a few ideas."_

"Ideas? Like something that could help her regain the feeling in her nerves?" Clarke asked excitedly, pacing in the corner of the lobby, glancing back at her friend.

"_Maybe! Don't go saying anything yet though, I don't want anyone to get their hopes up because there is no guarantee. Nerves are finicky things, as you know you."_

"Mhmm. That's great Mom. Thanks for doing that. You'll have to talk to Raven about it. Maybe later today you can call again? We're all going over to Wells' place to help him move some of his things in right now."

"_Oh okay! Good. I bet Wells is glad to see you,"_ her mother's voice was suggestive.

"Yes, Mother, of course." Clarke wasn't exactly sure why her mother held on to her and Wells' old relationship so tightly.

"_Anyway, I can talk to Raven in person, if you'd like. Thelonious invited me out in a few weeks, once he gets settled in, to be his first guest speaker in his class, and I agreed. I thought it would be a great opportunity to see you as well."_

"That would be great, Mom. I would love to see you!" Clarke said quickly. Even if their relationship wasn't perfect, she still loved her mother and was missing her. So much had changed in her life these past few months and Abigail knew nothing of it.

"_Perfect. I don't know an exact date yet, but within the month I think. In the meantime, I'm going to take a closer look at Raven's documents and try to formulate a plan. Hopefully by the time I come out there I will have something good to tell her."_

"Yes, that would be amazing, Mom. She'll be so excited."

"_Good, good! I've got to run, and you do too! I'll text you later, okay?"_

"Okay. Bye Mom."

"_Bye Clarke!"_

The phone clicked off and Clarke smiled. It would be good to see her mother. And it would be good for her mom to meet everyone. To meet Bellamy… maybe then she'd stop encouraging Wells and Clarke back together. But more than that, Clarke just wanted her mother to meet her boyfriend. _Boyfriend. _She really hadn't thought about that yet. Bellamy was her _boyfriend. _

Now grinning, Clarke turned back to the group, where Miller was encouraging Shaw to join the Delinquents for their next dodgeball tournament. Shaw looked skeptical but listened, glancing back and forth from Raven to Miller.

"What are you smirkin' about?" Octavia asked Clarke.

"Oh!" Clarke said, thinking quickly. "My mom just called and said she's going to come for a visit in a couple weeks, so I'm excited to see her."

"Oh, that's nice," Octavia agreed. Clarke thought it best to let Bellamy tell his sister about their new relationship, considering how close the siblings were and how much Octavia seemed to despise Bellamy's involvement in her life.

Clarke sent Wells a quick text that they would be momentarily on their way over and Bellamy came jogging out of the stairwell, his dark hair in damp curly rings. As soon as Clarke caught his eye, he grinned.

"Alright troops! Move out!" Jasper yelled. As they walked outside, he continued talking. "So, as one might notice, I don't have the specific muscular physique typically considered usefully in activities such as moving house, but, what I lack in muscle, I make up for in brains."

Murphy scoffed,"Sure thing, Jas'."

Jasper, undeterred by the interruption, said, "So, with that in mind, I have appointed myself head of this endeavor, and you may refer to me as _Supervisor Jordan _for all intents and purposes."

"Supervisor? Hell, if you're the supervisor, then I'm the foreman," Murphy declared.

The world outside was covered in several inches of snow from last night, sparkling in the sunlight, making everything look fresh and new. It lay on the branches of trees and bushes, outlining them in crisp white. The cold air hung thick with the sweet scent and everyone's feet crunched over the shoveled sidewalk, which had been liberally sprinkled with salt to prevent ice from forming.

"It's so pretty," Clarke said as Bellamy found his way to her side.

"Yeah, it is. We'll have to go back out to Arkadia State Park sometime and really see the snow. In the city, it gets all gross and slushy like, two hours after it falls. The snow banks are always brown and full of gravel."

"I'd like that," Clarke agreed, imagining the forest standing silent and still under its wintry blanket.

"So, ten people in my van?" Miller said skeptically. "Not so sure about that."

"I've got my Jeep!" Raven said quickly, producing the keys and tossing them to Bellamy, who barely snagged them before they landed in the snow.

"Oh perfect. Say Raven, you don't happen to have a snow brush, do you?" Miller asked.

Raven made a face. "I was hoping you had one."

They ended up pulling their hands up into their jacket sleeves and wiping the snow off the vehicles with their arms. Clarke climbed into the backseat of the Jeep with Octavia and Raven while Bellamy turned the engine over. Twice.

"Easy! She's fragile!" Raven cried, craning her neck to investigate what Bellamy was doing wrong.

"I'm sorry!" Bellamy said unapologetically. "Looks like she's just not a fan of the cold."

"Me either," Octavia mumbled, clamping her arms down over her hands and tucking her chin to her collar.

Shaw got into the passenger seat, banging his boots on the frame to knock off the sticky snow.

"Here Shaw!" Raven snatched the keys from Bellamy and pressed them into Shaw's hand. The poor guy just stared at her.

Clarke tried and failed to suppress another smile as Bellamy glowered at Raven as she gave her instructions.

"You start the engine, Shaw, because apparently Bellamy doesn't know how."

"Okay," Shaw said cautiously, looking more than a little bewildered. Clarke couldn't blame him, He'd been roped into this group of often overzealous college kids by Raven, who he had only known since last night.

He reached over and started the car, and, of course, the engine roared to life with such vigor that the whole car shuddered.

"Ahah!" Raven shouted triumphantly as Bellamy grumbled something under his breath.

The drive was fairly short and rather subdued. Clarke was really the only one who spoke as she directed Bellamy to Wells' father's apartment building, and the Jeep had more than its fair share of squeaking and grated noises as Bellamy coaxed it along the road.

Miller followed behind, and when they pulled up at a red light, they could hear the music pulsing out of the vehicle. Murphy was in the front seat just laughing away as Jasper leaned up into the front to fiddle with the radio. Clarke momentarily felt bad for Harper who she knew was somewhere in the van, but Harper was probably laughing along too. She was always smiling, especially when Monty was close by.

Wells was standing out front when they pulled up.

"Is _that _him?" Raven asked.

"Yep."

She sputtered out a laugh. "What is he _wearing?" _

Clarke slapped Raven's shoulder and tried to scold her, but was giggling too. "I don't know! He's always had a _sophisticated_ fashion sense."

"Is that a fedora?" Bellamy asked, raising a brow.

"And a corduroy coat?" Shaw chimed in, catching the vibe of the group.

"I knew I didn't like the guy," Bellamy said teasingly, throwing a playful smile to Clarke. She just shook her head at him.

"Clarke!" Wells said brightly, opening her door for her and offering her his hand.

"Hi Wells," Clarke greeted, stepping out onto the sidewalk. The van pulled up, base pounding so hard the windshield was literally vibrating. Miller looked like he was trying to appear irritated, but one could tell that he was actually enjoying himself.

"Wow, you brought a whole moving crew, huh?" Wells said, looking a bit intimidated as everyone clambered out.

"Yeah, sorry. They all wanted to come, and I wanted you to meet them. Plus, half of them won't do much of anything," Clarke explain

Murphy sauntered over. "Hi, that's me, the one who won't do anything. I'm Murphy, and I am so pleased to meet the acquaintance of such a dapper, distinguished young gentleman."

Murphy flipped up the collar of Wells' coat, a devilish grin on his face.

"Uh, thanks. Nice to meet you, too," Wells said, looking more than a little uncomfortable.

"Alright, speed run, ready?" Murphy said. Clarke knew he was about to do something goofy but she didn't interrupt him.

"Uh, what?"

"Let's do it!. We've got Clarke, of course, sweet darling Clarke. And then Raven, the one with the bum leg, and her new little boy toy Slaw, as in coleslaw. And then Bellamy, who I believe you already meet? No?" Murphy didn't give Wells time to reply before he rushed on. "And then Bellamy's sister, Octavia. Basically Bellamy but like, a girl. And over here, we've got Miller, Mr. Miller. Just think of Miller Lite. He looks the type to drink Miller Lite, doesn't he?"

"Sure?"

"And then there is Harper. She's like, well, actually, to be completely honest with you, I don't know very much about Harper. She's blond, I guess, so that's something. And then that's Monty, he's a nerd. He likes plants and shit. And then Jasper. Good ole Jas'. He makes a mad brew, you'll have to try that some time. You drink, Wells?"

Wells, who was more than a little flustered with the sudden influx of information, sputtered out, "Uh, I'll have the occasional chardonnay with dinner."

Murphy, pleased with himself, grinned. "Hmm, hear that folks? Chardonnay. That's all you need to know about Wells here. Yep indeed. He enjoys a nice _white wine_ with his dinner."

With that, he waltzed off to where Jasper was busting a gut, leaning against the van.

Clarke sighed and faced Wells who was staring after Murphy, stunned.

"Don't mind him. He's the resident hardass."

"And I wear that title with pride!" Murphy hollered back.

Wells shook his head slightly and turned back to Clarke. "Uhm, thanks for all the help." He lowered his voice, looking slightly concerned. "Do you think it would be too much to ask for them to stay down here? I only have a half dozen boxes, and I'm not too keen on letting Miller give my dad that rundown."

"Murphy."

"Huh?"

"Murphy." Clarke pointed to him. "Murphy the Hardass. Miller is the Miller Lite guy, remember?" She smirked at Wells, feeling a little bad about teasing him, but her new group of friends was playful and made it oh so easy to have a good time.

"Right. Murphy."

Clarke laughed and called out, "Supervisor Jordan?"

Jasper snapped to attention with a mock salute and came over to Clarke. "Yes?"

"Keep them occupied, alright? We'll go up and get the boxes."

"Absolutely, Major Griffin."

Clarke laughed, glad for a change that the boys were so goofy. It took the awkwardness out of the air, which for some reason seemed to accompany Wells' presence.

"Okay, Bellamy? C'mon. We're going to run in and bring the stuff out so we don't have fifteen people in one apartment."

Bellamy nodded in agreement from where he had been talking to Shaw. The two of them seemed to get along.

"Let's go Princess," Bellamy said, holding open the door for her and Wells after Wells unlocked it.

The interior of the apartment smelled like new carpet and everything looked pristine.

"This a new building?" Bellamy asked, running a finger along the grey painted wall.

"I think so? Less than a year old, if I remember correctly. My dad's apartment is right here on the first floor." Wells led them down a wide hallway. Bellamy and Clarke exchanged a look, before he leaned down and whispered in her ear.

"As soon as we don't have to live on campus, we're going to move into an apartment in a place like this."

Clarke raised her brows. "Are you asking me to move in with you?" She whispered back, aware that her pulse rate just jumped up at the prospect of that.

"Only if you want to."

Clarke smiled and squeezed his hand. "Of course."

Wells loudly cleared his throat and announced, "Here we are."

Clarke hoped he hadn't overheard them and instantly felt guilty. She was not trying to rub Bellamy in Wells' face.

"Dad?"

"Wells! Come in, son."

The sound of Dr. Jaha's voice brought back many memories for Clarke. She hadn't seen her mother's colleague in at least a year, and greeted him warmly while Bellamy hung back by the door.

"Dr. Jaha! It is so good to see you!" Clarke gave him a hug, which he returned. He had been like a second father to Clarke when she was younger. In fact, her dad used to joke with her mom that Dr. Jaha was her 'work husband'. Clarke used to never like that, because she couldn't ever see her parents with anyone besides each other, but they had both laughed about it often.

"Clarke, my dear. Lovely to see you again, too. I hope you have been well?" His voice was very calming Clarke had always thought that he could have a second career as an audiobook reader or a meditation coach or something.

"Very!" Clarke smiled for him. "College has been so crazy this first semester, but I love it here. I hope that you like your new position at the school. I'm sure the students will love you."

Dr. Jaha gave a deep laugh. "Me too. It'll be an adjustment, for sure, switching from practicing medicine to teaching it, but one I am excited to make. I will miss working with your mother, though."

"Yeah, she'll definitely miss you, too. But she said she's already coming to visit?"

"Yes! I think the week after next. I'll let her have the honor of being my very first guest speaker."

"She's thrilled, trust me."

"And who's this young man?" Jaha asked, gesturing past Clarke to Bellamy, who was shifting on his feet in the entryway.

"I'm Bellamy Blake, sir." Bellamy introduced himself and offered his hand to shake. Clarke loved the way he sounded so confident.

"Bellamy Blake, pleased to meet you. Thank you for volunteering your Saturday to help my son move. I haven't quite gotten around to getting a car here in Minneapolis yet."

"Of course."

"We should get going Dad," Wells interjected, hoisting a box up.

"Yes, yes. Let me help you carry these out to the car."

"No!" Wells said a bit too quickly. "We'll be fine."

"Don't worry about it son. That way we can get them all in one trip. No need to go in and out of the doors and let all the cold air in."

With that, the four of them picked up Wells' things and made their way outside. Bellamy met Clarke's eyes over the box in her arms and smirked. Clarke knew he was rather excited to see the treatment that Dr. Jaha was about to receive from their friends waiting outside. Dr. Jaha was a dignified man, much like Wells. The group, as a whole, was not.

Someone whistled the second they walked through the outer door. "You like older men, don't you Octavia? How about a doctor?" Murphy said.

Clarke tried not to laugh as Octavia smacked Murphy and tried to apologize to a man she had never met before.

"I am so sorry, Dr. Wells. Murphy has a screw loose."

To everyone's surprise, Dr. Jaha laughed as well. "It's Dr. Jaha. Wells is just my son's name."

Embarrassment forgotten, Octavia turned a questioning look to Wells. "Wells is your first name? Huh. I thought you were one of those weirdos who went by their last names."

"Hey!" Miller protested.

"Not cool, _Blake_." Murphy stuck his tongue out at Octavia.

"Yeaaah. This is why I suggested you stay inside, Dad." Wells muttered, setting his package down in the back of the Jeep.

"What? You're embarrassed of some college kids? Wells, son, _you're _a college kid. Live a little. Lighten up. Make a joke every now and again."

Wells frowned at his father and Clark gave him a sympathetic smile, which seemed to sooth him.

"And Octavia, was it?"

She nodded sheepishly with another glower at Murphy.

"I hate to break it to you, but I'm afraid I'm out of your league."

The group exploded in hoots and hollers. Clarke laughed until her chest ached as the boys accosted Octavia, who tried her best to act angry towards them, but she was laughing just as hard.

Wells was looking in disbelief from the spot where his father had gone back inside, to Octavia, then to Clarke. Finally, he cracked a grin.

"Sorry they're so crazy," Clarke said, catching her breath.

Wells just shook his head. "No, he's right. I do need to loosen up a bit. I've just never heard my father tell a joke like that before."

Clarke shrugged. "He was in college once, too. Maybe he's just reminiscing."

"Yeah, maybe," Wells agreed.

"Alright! Enough is enough! We have to move out!" Jasper called over the chatter.

"Aye Aye captain!" Bellamy saluted Jasper and opened the back door to the Jeep, ushering Wells and Clarke inside. Raven climbed in after them, leaving Octavia without a spot. She huffed and hurried to beat Murphy into the passenger seat of the van, slamming the door shut and locking it a second before he tried to yank it open. She triumphantly flipped him off as he vowed to get her back for this.

"Ready?" Bellamy asked, turning around to look at the three of them. He squeezed Clarke's knee, which made Raven coo in her ear and copy him, gripping her leg much tighter though.

"Ow!" Clarke laughed.

"You start it, man, I don't want to get barked at." Bellamy handed the keys to Shaw, who chuckled and did as he was told.

The Jeep roared to life, making Wells jump in his seat hard enough that he smacked his elbow on the door handle. Clarke giggled and he actually smiled back. This was going to be good for him.

"Atta boy Shaw! See Bellamy? This is what a superior man looks like."

"Yeah yeah. We know," he said good-naturedly. "Shaw is everything, Bellamy is nothing."

"Aww, no. Poor Bellamy. You're good enough. And I'd let you start my piece of crap car if I had one," Clarke defended him while getting a jab in at Raven, leaning up to pat his shoulder.

"Thank you, Princess. At least someone loves me."

Clarke grinned at Raven, who rolled her eyes as they eased out into the road and headed back towards campus.

Clarke leaned back into the seat where she was pressed between Raven and Wells, her best friends from two different parts of her life. Wells was her past, but now he had come back into her life through a series of unforeseen events. Raven was her present, emblematic of everything college had been so far; pain, humor, suffering, love. And now, they were both her future.

Raven started talking to Shaw about some mechanics project she was supposed to start this week, pestering him for hints so she could get started before the project was even assigned. Bellamy drove, his now mostly dry hair poking through the gap at the base of the headrest. Clarke wanted to touch it, but she figured she'd better not, because he had a tendency to get majorly distracted when she did, and his attention was better focused on the road right now.

Clarke looked to Wells then, with his hands resting on each of his knees, his eyes looking out the window at the passing city. Smoke rose from the roofs of buildings, curling into a wintry blue sky.

Wells looked to Clarke, sensing her eyes on him. He gave her a small smile, his eyes sad.

"C'mon Shaw! I'ma cripple, so you have to do nice things for me!" Raven never brought up her injury, so it was more funny than anything. Shaw countered her and Bellamy chimed in.

They were all preoccupied, and Clarke wanted to talk to Wells, despite their close proximity to listening ears.

"It's not going to be weird, is it?" she asked quietly.

Wells opened his mouth, ready to give the answer Clarke wanted to hear, but paused and reconsider. "Not forever," he finally said.

Clarke nodded. She sort of thought they had settled this at the restaurant, but seeing the look on Wells' face made her want to revisit the topic, just to be sure. It was never her intention to make Wells feel bad.

"I- Clarke. I loved you, I still love you, you're the best friend I've ever had. And I'm not going to lie, I had hoped we could get back together once I moved here, but you found someone else. I can't say I'm the biggest Bellamy fan in the world, but he seems to make you happy. And that's what I want for you; to be happy, because I care about you, Clarke. You're an amazing person who deserves someone just as special. If that person isn't me, that's okay, so long as you are with someone who deserves you. You're too special to date just anyone."

Clarke felt tears prick in her eyes. For a moment, she had forgotten why she and Wells were so close, but this brought it all back. Wells was quite simply a good person. He was smart and kind and honest, and he had been Clarke's balance when she was younger.

"Thank you, Wells. That means a lot." Clarke shifted sideways and hugged her friend despite the awkward angle. Only then did she realize how quiet the car had gotten.

Clarke felt her face redden as she pulled away, knowing they had been at least partially overheard.

But it turned out to be not such a bad thing.

"Hey man," Bellamy said. They were stopped at a red light. "You are so right when you say that Clarke is an amazing girl, and I think a lot has changed since you two were close. But I promise that I will always treat her right, give her the respect she deserves, and be good to her. I'm counting on you to keep me accountable, too. Call me out if I'm not being the best person for her, alright? And it's okay that you're not my biggest fan right now, I certainly wouldn't be if I were you. Clarke is worth fighting for and I'll admit that you're a bigger man than me. I wouldn't have done what you just did, because I'm too stubborn. You're a good one, Wells."

Then Clarke really did shed a tear.

"Thanks, Bellamy. Take care of her."

"I always will."

Bellamy gave Clarke an adorable smile over his shoulder as they were honked at from behind.

The light had turned green and they were still stopped. Octavia was hanging her head out of the passenger window of the van, hollering at them. Miller grinned and honked again.

"Whoops," Bellamy said and stepped on the gas, The Jeep lurched forward, sputtering its protest.

"My God Clarke. How did you manage to find two of the nicest guys on the planet?" Raven teased.

Clarke laughed, wiping her cheek. "I dunno. I'm pretty lucky, I guess."

"Yeah, you're making me look bad, guys," Shaw said.

A moment later, they pulled up in front of the dorm. Bellamy raced around the side of the Jeep and swept Clarke up as soon as she stepped out.

She squealed in surprise, burying her face into his neck as he spun her around.

"I love you so much, Clarke." His voice was thick as if he were emotional and the strength of his words knocked the breath from Clarke's lungs. All she could do was pull back and kiss him to tell him she felt the same way.

Their little moment was short lived. Clarke had momentarily forgotten their rather large, rather loud audience.

"I told you! I told you! I told you!" Octavia screamed. One of the guys whistled and Raven had the audacity to slow clap, looking satisfied at the fruition of their little love story.

Bellamy released Clarke and she sheepishly faced her friends. Bellamy held her around the waist and just laughed warmly.

Octavia, who Clarke had been most worried about telling, seemed the happiest.

"I told you Murphy! You own me!"

Murphy groaned, looking at Bellamy. "I didn't think you'd pull it off, man. Now I owe your dumb sister fifty bucks!"

"You were _betting_ on us?" Clarke cried, momentarily horrified with the realization that this moment had been long expected.

Octavia nodded. "Duh. I know my big brother well enough to know that he was in love with you from the very beginning, Clarke. This was a chance to make a quick buck, but I really am happy for you two."

She came over and hugged the both of them, which made Clarke feel so welcomed. Octavia was a girl of strong opinions, and her seal of approval was the final missing piece to her and Bellamy's new relationship.

"How long did you know and not tell us?" Harper asked Raven, trying her best to look put out but failing mightily.

Raven shrugged slyly. "I knew before even Clarke knew. I had to tell _her _first."

Clarke laughed and tried to defend herself. "Not true!"

Raven raised a brow.

"Okay, maybe a little bit true," she conceded, leaning into Bellamy.

"Pay up, Murphy!" Octavia said, holding out her hand.

"I don't even have fifty bucks! I'm a broke college kid. I can't even afford this week's Top Ramen!"

"Hmm." Octavia leaned down and scooped up a handful of snow and lobbed it at Murphy, hitting him squared in the chest.

"Oof," he exhaled. He narrowed his eyes and paid for a split second. "Oh, it's on now!"

He chased Octavia, who screamed and leapt over the snowbank and sprinted across the unblemished lawn in front of the dorm. Murphy pelted her back a couple of times before slipping and falling into the snow. Octavia laughed and kicked snow at him as he struggled to regain his feet, all the while shouting profanity.

Then, Wells, seeming to want to live up to his dad's advice, formed a snowball and tossed it at Bellamy.

"Oh, you're in for it now, man!" Bellamy said.

"Snowball fight!" Jasper yelled and everyone exploded into action, throwing snow and dodging and laughing uncontrollably.

"Good practice for dodgeball, I guess," Miller said. He was normally so calm and composed, but he doubled over at the waist, laughing, when he hit Jasper square in the forehead with a well aimed throw. Jasper charged at Miller, tackling him into the snowbank where Miller shoved snow down the back of Jasper's jacket, making him howl and dance around like a fool.

Bellamy grabbed Clarke's hand and pulled her behind the Jeep, breathless and untroubled. His brown eyes were bright and his tan cheeks were rosy from the cold air. Warmth surged in Clarke's chest and she looked at him. She was so hopelessly in love with this man and she could be happier about it.

He had the ability to make the rest of the world melt away when she looked into his eyes. The shrieks and hollers of their friends faded into the background and the cold air became like a warm caress. Nothing in the world seemed to matter more than him in that moment, and he made Clarke feel like she was the center of his universe.

Bellamy didn't have a chance to explain why he'd brought her back here before they were discovered.

"They're hiding back here!" Octavia found them, a snowball poised to throw. "You little lovebirds, get out here!"

Octavia hit her brother with the snowballs and ran off. Clarke giggled as the two of them went back around the van, and continued the fight.

Clarke had never laughed harder or had so much fun in all her life. This group of people made her feel so at home, so comfortable. They had a few new members now, but Shaw seemed to fit in seamlessly and Wells would get there. He might have to spend a while as the butt of the guy's jokes, but it would be good for him.

When they all collapsed onto the snowbank, exhausted, there was nowhere else Clarke would rather be. The snow made a little seat, cradling her. Bellamy plunked down next to her.

She ruffled the snow out of his hair and he pulled her onto his lap.

"Smile!" Harper called, holding her phone out to capture them all in a photo.

"You'll have to draw this one like you drew the dodgeball one, Princess," Bellamy said.

"Absolutely."

"Then I can frame it and hang it on the wall in our apartment, so you can look at it everyday and remember that we are all here for you. One big, happy, dysfunctional family."

Clarke leaned back into him, content. "That's a lovely idea. Our crazy little family."

Bellamy's arms encircled her waist as he held her close. Clarke closed her eyes and could feel the beating of his heart through his jacket, steady and even.

"I love you Clarke, and I'll always be here for you."

"I love you, too. And thank you, Bellamy. Really, truly, thank you. You've saved my life."

"And you've given me my life."

Their world might be a little messy and a touch unpredictable, but Clarke was confident they could navigate every twist and turn so long as they were by each other's side.

**AN_**

**Long, gushy author's note to follow. :)**

**We're here guys. Welcome to the end of_ Here For You_, I am so unbelievable happy to see you here. This story has been a wonderful experience for me to write, and I hope it has been for you, as a reader, as well. I know the subject matter started off a little sensitive, but nonetheless important, but I think we ended on a sweet note. And got to see some Bellarke, which is always fantastic. I feel as though my writing has improved significantly over the course of this story, and cringe rereading the first dozen or so chapters. Some day I want to get around to updating them to better reflect my writing, but that's a project for another day.**

**Okay, here's the part where I act like I won an Academy Award.**

**First of all, thank you kyliEisMC2 for agreeing to beta my story. You were such a lovely person to work with, so helpful and encouraging, and helped me be the best writer I could be. Pat yourself on the back for a job well done, you're amazing :)**

**And then, of course, I have to thank all of you wonderful people who left reviews. Receiving reviews on your work is one of the best feelings in the world, so thank you. To the handful of people who were consistent reviewers, GinnyWeasley09, inspiredsightxo, The100fan09, Vic, samanthaburton0114 , and steamiebaby, an especially big thank you. To know that you guys were following along and reading every update made me feel so great.**

**Thank you to everyone who has favorited and followed as well! And if you've been one of my silent readers, this is your last chance to say hi and let me know what you thought.:)**

**I started writing this story in January 2020, before COVID-19 was an issue in the United States, and after I started self quarantine, this story was the place I came to live my life. I was able to write scenes that I wish I could be doing with my friends, (like attending a football game or getting wasted when we really shouldn't be) but couldn't do right now. It was the creative space I needed to keep from losing my marbles while stuck at home. I'm sure many of you can relate to that, lol. Writing is such an amazing outlet, and even though my writing isn't perfect or maybe sometimes isn't even good, it helps me. So to share it and get positive feedback is incredibly validating and heartwarming.**

**Now, this is something that I always want to see when I reach the end of stories, a brief little timeline. I posted my first chapter on February 1st, 2020, and will post this final chapter on December 5th, 2020. I posted pretty much weekly throughout that time. So, if you're here months or maybe even years after the fact, I would love for you to leave a little review to remind me about this story and let me know people are still enjoying it. :)**

**That's about all I have for you, folks.**

**I hope you enjoyed this extra long chapter as a thank you gift!**

**So, as always,**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Birch66724**


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